THE   HUNDREDTH  TOWN 


GLIMPSES  OF  LIFE  IN  WESTBOROUGH. 


1717-1817. 


BY 

HARRIETTS    MERRIFIELD    FORBES. 

n 


BOSTON: 
PRESS  OF  ROCKWELL  AND  CHURCHILL,  39  ARCH  STREET. 

i 


F71- 


PREFACE 


J,OR  the  use  of  the  Parkman  papers,  thanks  are 
due  to  the  Antiquarian  Society,  in  Worcester, 
for  the  earliest  volume  of  the  Journal  and  the 
Natalia;  to  Mrs.  I.  E.  S.  Tuckerman,  of  Amherst,  for  the 
Journals  of  the  years  1737  and  1778-80;  to  Mrs.  Maria 
D.  Leach,  for  that  of  Anna  Sophia  Parkman ;  and  to  Mrs. 
Nahum  Fisher,  for  several  papers  of  interest.  Mrs.  J.  W. 
Brittan  has  kindly  loaned  the  large  number  of  papers  left 
by  Dr.  Hawes,  and  Mrs.  Sarah  Ball  Searle,  of  North- 
borough,  those  of  Dr.  Ball. 

Nearly  all  the  older  residents  of  the  town  have  been  of 
very  great  assistance  in  the  work,  by  telling  stories  of  fact 
or  folk-lore,  or  by  pleasant  companionship  in  drive  or 
walk. 

For  the  title  chosen,  THE  HUNDREDTH  TOWN,  I  am 
indebted  to  the  chance  of  circumstance,  —  ninety-nine 
other  towns  having  been  previously  incorporated  in  Massa- 
chusetts. 


6  PREFA  CE. 

The  view  of  Main  street  in  1828  is  taken  from  an  old 
water-color  in  possession  of  Mrs.  Leach ;  that  of  the  church 
in  1806  from  a  drawing,  also  loaned  by  her,  made  by  Mr. 
Charles  Parkman.  Governor  Davis'  birthplace  is  from  a 
daguerreotype  owned  by  Mrs.  George  C.  Davis,  of  North- 
borough. 

The  engraving  was  done  by  Clara  Denny  Ward,  of 
Shrewsbury. 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

I.  TRACES  OF  THE  INDIAN                                                           .      9 

II.  THE  FIRST  SETTLERS    .                         .                                  .     31 

III.  OLD  ROADS  AND  TAVERNS    .  -47 

IV.  THE  MINISTER'S  FAMILY       .  .     67 
V.     THE  TOWN  PHYSICIAN 103 

VI.    LEGAL  PRACTICES .120 

VII.     PHANTOMS  AND  REALITIES 132 

VIII.  STEPHEN  MAYNARD  AND  SOME  OF  HIS  NEIGHBORS      .        .154 

IX.  THE  LAST  OF  THE  NIPMUCKS        .        .,        .  *      .        .        .167 

X.  SOCIAL  CUSTOMS    .                                                           .        .  186 


THE 

HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


CHAPTER   I. 

TRACES    OF  THE   INDIAN. 

JORE  than  two  hundred  years  have  passed  away 
since  the  Indian,  unmolested,  roamed  through 
the  wilderness  of  Wabbequasset  — •  the  land  of 
the  Nipmucks  —  the  Whetstone  country.  Nearly  every 
trace  of  him  has  disappeared.  His  Okommakamesit  and 
Whipsufferage  we  call  Marlborough ;  Hassanamisco,  the 
place  of  small  stones,  is  Grafton ;  Wopanage,  the  crossing- 
place,  is  Milford ;  and  Magunkook,  the  place  of  great  trees, 
is  Hopkinton.  Very  few  places  retain  their  Indian  names ; 
even  the  great  pond,  Naggawoomcom,  was  rechristened 
Chauncy,  in  honor  of  a  Harvard  College  president,  to 
whom  the  land  near  by  was  granted. 

The  exceptions   in  this  immediate  vicinity  are   Quinsiga- 
mond,    "the    pickerel-fishing    place,"    in    Shrewsbury;    the 


10 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN, 


river  Assabet  (pronounced,  in  the  boyhood  of  the  old 
men,  Assawbet),  flowing  through  Westborough ;  and  Hoc- 
comocco,  the  pond  which  the  "  fresh-water  fishermen " 
named  for  their  evil  spirit,  because  they  believed  that 
whoever  chanced  to  be  near  its  borders  was  under  some 
malignant  influence. 


—  x' 

oX- 


The  legend  of  this  pond  was  written  by  Hon.  Horace 
Maynard  for  the  "  Horae  Collegianae,"  published  by  the 
undergraduates  of  Amherst,  in  1838.  He  says  it  was  told 
to  him  "  by  an  old  Indian,  the  last  of  his  tribe."  This 
was  probably  old  Andrew  Brown,  of  whom  more  hereafter. 
With  some  omissions,  it  is  as  follows :  — 


TRACES  OF  THE  INDIAN.  H 

A  LEGEND  OF  THE  HOBOMAK. 

"  It  is,  truly,  a  most  singular  place.  Surrounded  on  three 
sides  by  heavy,  deep- shaded  woods,  that,  as  they  recede 
from  the  shore,  tower  to  the  summits  of  the  high  hills  by 
which  it  is  encircled,  it  presents  a  dreary,  cavernous  aspect, 
dismally  relieved  by  the  low,  palpitating  quagmire  border- 
ing the  fourth  side.  It  is  seldom  visited,  except  by  the 
fisherman  in  his  skiff,  or  the  truant  school-boy,  to  gather 
the  lilies  that  fringe  the  margin ;  and  seldom  by  them  ex- 
cept in  broad  daylight,  the  most  foolhardy  being  scarcely 
venturesome  enough  to  tread  by  night  the  muggy  paths 
that  wind  through  its  tangled  underwood  and  murky  bogs. 
A  Sabbath  stillness  reigns  there  almost  unbroken.  The 
angler  holds  converse  with  his  fellows  at  the  other  end 
of  the  boat  in  the  softest  whispers ;  the  century-living  crow 
croaks  dull  and  husky  from  the  pine  in  yonder  cove;  even 
the  querulous  jay  in  that  clump  of  alders  softens  her 
shrew-like  note.  Occasionally,  perhaps,  a  mink  or  an  otter 
rises  to  the  surface,  takes  a  hasty  survey  of  the  upper 
regions,  flaps  his  strong  tail,  and  sinks  back  to  his  slimy 
habitation;  but  saving  a  few  such  equivocal  sounds,  the 
Genius  of  Silence  holds  uninterrupted  sway.  Such  is  the 
Hoccomocco,  as  it  is  called  by  the  hinds  in  the  neigh- 
borhood ;  and  the  town  surveyor  himself  has  not  ventured, 


12 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


in  his  '  Survey  of  the  Town,'    so  far   to   violate   the  vulgar 

prejudice,  as  to  give  it  its  proper  designation  of  Hobomak. 

This,   as    is  well   known,  was   the  Indian  appellation   of  the 
Evil  Spirit. 

"  Tradition  affirms  that  Captain  Kidd  concealed  a  large 
portion  of  his  ill-gotten  booty  somewhere  along  the  inhos- 
pitable shores  of  the  Hobomak,  and  so  vigilantly  has  it 
been  guarded  by  the  infernal  powers,  that  not  a  soul  has 
caught  a  glimpse  of  it  since.  Not  that  no  attempt  has 
been  made  to  recover  it  from  such  infamous  stockholders, 
and  give  it  a  more  honorable  investment.  Many  a  deep- 
sunk  pit  would  you  find  along  the  desolate  shores  of  the 
pond,  dug,  about  the  charmed  hour  of  midnight,  by  two 
ignorant  day-laborers,  while  a  third  stood  guard,  holding 
a  drawn  sword  and  gun  charged  with  a  silver  bullet,  and  a 
fourth  marched  close  to  the  limit  of  the  magic  circle, 
reading  most  reverently  from  a  big  family  Bible  which  he 
carried  perpendicularly  before  him ;  thus,  by  weapons 
carnal  and  weapons  spiritual,  bidding  defiance  to  the  Spirit 
of  Darkness.  But,  with  all  their  midnight  financiering, 
the  gold  pieces  were  never  observed  to  twinkle  particularly 
bright  through  the  interstices  of  their  silk  purses. 


TRACES    OF    THE    INDIAN. 


"  '  And  this  is  my  wedding-night,'  said  the  beautiful  lano, 
as  she  stood  contemplating  her  lithe  and  graceful  form, 
mirrored  in  the  glassy  rivulet  which  forms  the  outlet  of  the 
Hobomak.  Her  beads  and  wampum  were  most  daintily  en- 
twined about  her  neck  and  arms ;  her  hair  hung  negligently 
on  her  shoulders,  confined  only  by  a  fillet  of  wild-flowers ;  a 
neatly  wrought  moccasin  concealed  a  wanton  little  foot  and 
ankle ;  and  a  mantle  of  bear-skin  completed  her  attire.  She 
was  the  belle  of  her  tribe,  and,  like  all  belles,  an  incorrigible 
coquette.  All  the  young  warriors  had  in  turn  sued  for  her 
hand,  and  all  had  been  rejected  except  the  chief,  Sassacus. 
He  had  remained  a  long  time  unsusceptible  to  her  charms; 
or,  if  he  had  been  moved,  his  emotions  were  kept  locked  up 
within  his  own  breast.  Even  when  he  had  inwardly  re- 
solved to  wed  the  proud  and  volatile  creature,  he  refrained 
from  communicating  his  sentiments,  but  adopted  a  course  of 
policy  which  has  succeeded  in  bringing  many  a  flirt  into  the 
arms  of  her  lover  since  those  times.  Somebody  has  said, — 
caustically  enough,  to  be  sure,  —  that  if  the  suitor  would  cease 
to  pursue  his  mistress,  she  would  turn  and  give  chase  to  him. 
Whether  this  be  truth,  or  a  mere  epigram  intended  for  effect, 
our  regard  for  the  sex  will  not  allow  us  to  decide ;  such,  cer- 
tainly, was  the  experience  of  Sassacus.  He  stood  aloof  from 


I4  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

the  fair  one  till  she  began  to  pine  in  secret  for  his  love. 
Often  would  she  watch  him  as  he  sat  in  council,  or  joined 
in  the  wild  measures  of  the  war-dance.  She  fed  upon  his 
looks  till  he  became  her  soul's  ideal  of  beauty,  —  such  stead- 
fast limbs,  such  a  massive  chest,  such  a  noble  gait,  such  a 
lofty,  commanding  brow !  All  her  arts  of  fascination  had 
failed ;  and  a  sigh  of  mingled  vexation  and  despair  would 
escape  from  the  very  bottom  of  her  heart,  as  she  saw  him 
from  day  to  day  sporting  with  the  other  and  less  beautiful 
maidens  of  the  tribe. 

"  The  keen-eyed  chief  let  none  of  these  things  escape  his 
notice ;  and  when  he  had  sufficiently  humbled  the  proud 
spirit  -of  the  girl,  he  changed  his  demeanor.  By  a  few 
trifling  presents  and  an  occasional  flattering  word  he  kindled 
a  feeble  spark  of  hope  in  the  breast  of  the  fair  despondent, 
but,  at  the  same  time,  without  allowing  her  to  presume  on 
his  affection.  In  this  way  he  inveigled  her  completely  into 
his  power,  and  extorted  a  full  confession  of  love,  before  he 
had  given  her  the  least  proof  of  his  own  attachment.  He 
now  began  to  play  the  lover  in  real  earnest.  Having  stipu- 
lated with  the  parents  of  the  maid  for  the  price  of  her  ran- 
som, and  all  the  other  preliminaries  being  duly  settled,  he 
made  preparation  for  the  marriage  festival.  lano  had 
reached  the  very  pinnacle  of  happiness.  Her  step  was  the 
lightest  among  the  maidens  as  they  tripped  it  through  the 


TRACES    OF    THE    INDIAN.  !  5 

glades  of  the  forest;  her  canoe  danced  gayest  as  they  glided 
cheerily  over  the  water.  She  longed  for  the  hour  when  the 
priest  should  bind  herself  and  her  lover  in  the  mystic  girdle. 
And  what  betrothed  damsel  will  not  sympathize?  Thus  she 
stood  by  the  brook  meditating  her  approaching  happiness, 
now  readjusting  her  ornaments,  and  studying  the  effect ;  now 
patting  the  water  with  her  tiny  foot,  and  watching  the  ripples 
as  they  circled  out  of  sight,  till  the  sun  had  dropped  behind 
the  hills,  and  night  had  begun  to  fling  her  gray  shadows 
over  the  earth.  In  the  ecstasy  of  her  joy  her  disposition 
for  frolic  returned.  She  had  never  ventured  to  play  her 
pranks  upon  the  stern  Sassacus,  but  the  temptation  was  too 
great  to  be  resisted  ;.  she  could  not  give  up  her  maiden  free- 
dom without  one  more  act  of  enjoyment.  '  The  young  men 
are  assembling,'  she  continued,  soliloquizing;  'I  hear  them 
laugh.  I'll  give  them  the  slip  for  one  night/ 

II. 

"The  wedding-party  had  indeed  assembled.  The  warriors 
were  there,  each  with  all  the  scalps  and  wolf-locks  he  and 
his  ancestors  had  ever  taken  from  the  foe  or  secured  in  the 
chase.  These  trophies  marked  their  rank  more  truly  than 
the  purest  heraldic  emblazonry;  and,  reckoned  by  this  rule, 
Sassacus  was  found  abundantly  deserving  the  post  of  chief. 
He  was  the  bravest  of  his  nation ;  no  arrow  was  more  cer- 


1 6  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

tain  in  its  flight,  whether  winged  at  man  or  beast ;  and  no 
tomahawk  cleft  its  victim  with  a  more  deadly  aim  than  his. 
On  this  occasion  he  was  decked  with  unusual  splendor.  The 
string  of  fish-bones  —  the  insignia  of  royalty  —  depended 
from  his  neck ;  a  triangular  breast-plate,  wrought  from  the 
fangs  of  the  catamount,  adorned  his  front ;  shells  of  small 
turtles  dangled  from  his  ears ;  a  circlet,  into  which  were 
fastened  the  tails  of  rattlesnakes,  entwined  his  brow,  making 
music  as  he  walked ;  a  tuft  of  eagle  feathers  crowned  his 
head ;  while  over  his  left  shoulder  was  carelessly  thrown  a 
robe  of  wolf-skins,  fringed  with  human  scalps,  a  few  of  which 
were  still  green  from  the  head  of  the  fallen  Pequot.  Thus 
arrayed,  he  took  his  seat  at  the  sacred  fire,  and  on  either 
side  of  him  his  warriors,  according  to  rank.  The  seat  at  his 
right  hand  was  vacant. 

"'  Where  is  Wequoash?'"  inquired  he,  glancing  his  eye 
over  the  company.  As  no  one  could  answer  him,  all  re- 
mained silent.  He  then  propounded  the  question  to  each 
one  in  turn,  and,  by  way  of  reply,  he  got  an  abundance  of 
conjecture  and  much  information  touching  the  precious 
whereabouts  of  the  missing;  but,  as  far  as  any  valuable,  or 
in  the  least  available,  intelligence  was  concerned,  his  inquiries 
ended  just  where  they  began.  The  person  in  question  was 
the  second  in  rank  to  Sassacus,  and  his  rival  in  war.  For  a 
long  time  he  had  been  the  avowed,  and,  as  he  supposed,  the 


TRACES    OF    THE    INDIAN.  lj 

accepted,  lover  of  the  fair  lano.  The  wreath  that  decked 
her  brow  his  hand  had  woven ;  the  fur  robes  that  covered 
her  lovely  form  were  the  spoils  of  his  bow.  In  secret, 
indeed,  she  had  cherished  his  hopes,  intending  to  accept  him 
at  last  should  she  fail  in  attracting  Sassacus,  though  in  pub- 
lic she  had  always  treated  him  with  the  same  cold  indiffer- 
ence which  marked  her  conduct  towards  the  rest  of  her 
admirers.  Thus  fed,  his  passion  increased  in  strength  and 
violence,  till  it  was  too  late  to  check  its  growth  or  to  trans- 
fer it  to  another  object.  ...  In  his  anguish  he  had 
vowed  eternal  hate,  and  now  awaited  with  his  native  in- 
difference a  favorable  opportunity  to  wreck  his  purposed 
vengeance.  By  rank  he  was  expected  to  be  present  at  the 
marriage  and  to  assist  at  the  customary  sacrifices,  and  the 
ardor  with  which  he  had  superintended  the  preparations 
made  his  absence  appear  strange  and  unaccountable. 

III. 

"  On  the  north  shore  of  the  Hobomak  is  a  plain  stretching 
away  to  the  distance  of  several  miles,  skirted  on  the  western 
side  by  a  high  range  of  hills,  whose  declivities,  lined  as  they 
are  with  jutting  masses  of  rock  and  a  few  scattering  old 
trees,  are,  even  at  this  day,  sufficiently  solemn  and  gloomy." 
The  most  prominent  of  this  range  is  Boston  hill,  so  called, 
because  it  was  supposed  to  be  as  thickly  populated  with 


jg  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

rattlesnakes  as  Boston  with  people.  "  Here  and  there  yawns 
a  cavern  whose  frightful  depths  few  have  courage  or  inclina- 
tion to  penetrate,  so  are  left  to  be  the  abode  of  serpents  and 
toads,  and  all  such  creatures  as  flee  the  face  of  man.  Among 
these  dismal  haunts  Wequoash,  desirous  to  appear  at  the 
wedding  signalized  by  some  recent  achievement,  had  been 
searching  all  day  for  the  lurking-place  of  a  panther  which 
for  a  long  time  had  infested  the  neighborhood.  After  an 
active  and  patient  search,  he  found  a  crevice  between  two 
overhanging  rocks  that  opened  wider  and  deeper  than  the 
rest,  and  plunged  into  it  without  hesitation.  On  reaching 
the  bottom  he  descried  a  narrow  passage  which  branched  off 
in  a  lateral  direction  under  the  base  of  the  hill.  Along  this 
he  crept  upon  his  hands  and  knees  for  several  hundred  feet, 
till  at  length  it  terminated  in  a  spacious  cavern,  the  size  of 
which,  perfectly  dark  as  it  was,  he  found  it  difficult  to  deter- 
mine. In  this  perplexity  he  gave  a  shrill  cry,  to  try  the 
effect  of  the  reverberations.  A  low,  faint  echo  died  along 
the  distant  walls,  followed  by  the  hoarse  growl  of  a  wild 
beast.  The  experienced  ear  of  the  Indian  instantly  told 
him  that  he  had  hit  upon  the  object  of  his  search,  and, 
directing  a  glance  to  another  part  of  the  vault,  he  discovered 
the  eyes  of  the  animal  glaring  like  meteors  in  the  midst  of 
the  surrounding  darkness. 

"Wequoash  quickly  saw  that  he  was  discovered.    He  could 


TRACES    OF    THE    INDIAN.  IO/ 

perceive  the  gleaming  eyes  gradually  making  towards  him, 
till,  crouching  within  a  few  feet,  the  animal  appeared  on  the 
point  of  making  the  fatal  spring.  It  was  a  moment  requiring 
all  the  nerve  for  which  he  was  distinguished  even  among  his 
own  stout-hearted  race.  He  had  left  his  bow  behind  him,  not 
supposing  that  he  should  require  its  service  in  the  bosom  of 
the  hills ;  and  his  tomahawk,  hanging  at  his  side,  was  his 
only  weapon  of  attack  or  defence.  To  move  from  his  posi- 
tion, in  a  place  with  which  he  was  wholly  unacquainted, 
would  be  attended  with  great  hazard,  and  to  retreat  through 
the  narrow  aperture  by  which  he  had  entered  would  ex- 
pose him  to  the  attack  of  his  foe  at  still  greater  disadvantage. 
Amidst  these  perplexities  the  cool-headed  Indian  formed  his 
plan  of  action  as  deliberately  as  if  the  merest  trifle  had  been 
staked  upon  the  issue.  Seizing  his  hatchet  from  his  belt,  he 
huiled  it  with  an  instinctive  aim,  and  bounded  from  the  floor 
of  the  cave.  In  his  descent  he  fell  prostrate  upon  the  body 
of  the  beast.  The  deadly  missile  had  cleft  his  skull,  and,  by 
vaulting  from  his  position,  the  hunter  avoided  the  fatal  spring 
which  the  creature  sometimes  makes  upon  its  enemies,  in 
the  agonies  of  death.  .  With  much  effort  he  drew  his  booty 
to  the  mouth  of  the  cavern,  and,  throwing  it  over  his  shoul- 
der, commenced  his  return,  night  having  long  since  fallen. 


20  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

IV. 

"The  volatile  lano  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  play 
the  truant  to  her  betrothed,  and  to  disappoint,  for  one  night 
at  least,  the  assembled  youth  of  the  tribe.  At  the  farther 
extremity  of  the  Hobomak  was  a  huge  old  willow,  mantled 
by  an  enormous  wild  grape-vine  whose  branches  depended  so 
as  to  form  a  beautiful  natural  arbor.  Thither  she  was  fond 
of  retiring  with  one  or  two  of  her  companions,  and  they,  in 
honor  of  her,  had  named  it  lano's  bower.  In  this  charmed 
retreat  she  determined  to  pass  the  night,  even  at  the  risk  of 
forever  alienating  her  lover.  So,  unmooring  her  canoe,  she 
stepped  into  the  toppling  thing,  and  darted  from  the  shore. 
Away,  away  it  flew  dancing  over  the  water,  so  light  as 
scarcely  to  leave  a  ripple  on  the  tranquil  surface.  Before 
she  had  reached  the  middle,  the  harvest-moon  arose  and 
threw  its  full-orbed  light  directly  upon  her.  Hearing  the 
sound  of  a  light,  stealthy  footstep,  and  fearing  that  she 
should  be  discovered,  she  turned  her  canoe  towards  the 
nearest  shore,  and  took  refuge  under  the  shadows  of  the 
overhanging  trees. 

"  Wequoash  was  hastening  homeward  with  his  game,  anx- 
ious lest  he  should  be  too  late  to  participate  in  the  cheer  of 
the  festival ;  for  it  ill  assorted  with  his  ideas  of  manliness, 
as  well  as  with  his  dark  system  of  policy,  to  appear  wanting 


TRACES    OF    THE    INDIAN.  21 

in  merriment  and  good-nature  on  an  occasion  so  joyous  to 
his  rival  and  so  humiliating  to  himself.  As  he  neared  the 
shore  of  the  pond  he  descried  a  canoe  skimming  gracefully 
over  the  water,  the  moonbeams  glancing  from  the  paddle  as 
it  rose  in  light  and  even  strokes,  which  the  rower  would  now 
and  then  suspend,  and  look  cautiously  about  her  as  if  sus- 
pecting danger. 

"  '  It  is  the  canoe  of  the  False-hearted,'  said  he  to  himself; 
'  no  other  of  our  girls  can  dip  her  oars  so  lightly.'  She 
was  alone,  and  he  could  wish  for  no  more  favorable  oppor- 
tunity to  accomplish  the  pent-up  purpose  of  his  breast. 
The  demon  of  vengeance  had  seized  fast  hold  upon  him, 
and  every  other  consideration  was  forgotten.  Seeing  her 
approach  the  shore,  he  cast  off  his  hunting-dress,  dropped 
into  the  water  a  little  before  the  bark,  and  swam  softly  be- 
neath the  surface  till  he  was  within  a  few  feet  of  it.  Just 
then  the  vigilant  fugitive  let  fall  her  paddle,  and  applied  her 
ear  close  to  the  water  that  she  might  detect  more  readily  the 
footsteps  of  her  pursuers,  little  dreaming  that  so  deadly  a  foe 
lurked  at  the  very  bow  of  her  skiff.  To  seize  her  by  her 
floating  tresses  and  drag  her  down  required  but  little  effort. 
A  thrilling  shriek  of  agony,  a  few  frantic  struggles,  and  all 
was  over.  She  sunk  like  lead  when  released  from  the  pow- 
erful grasp  of  the  warrior.  The  canoe  he  dragged  to  a  little 
distance,  threw  into  it  a  large  stone,  which  secured  it  firmly 


22  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

at  the  bottom,  thus  obliterating  every  trace  of  his  victim. 
He  regained  the  shore,  resumed  his  dress,  bore  away  his 
game  to  a  place  of  concealment,  and,  plunging  into  the 
forest,  quickly  was  out  of  sight. 


V. 


"  The  maidens  who  had  been  appointed  to  escort  the  bride 
into  the  presence  of  her  lord  sent  one  of  their  number  with 
a  message  that  lano  had  disappeared  a  little  before  sunset, 
and  could  nowhere  be  found.  A  suspicion  flashed  across 
every  mind  that  her  disappearance  was  some  way  connected 
with  the  absence  of  Wequoash.  All  knew  the  strength  of 
his  former  attachment  and  suspected  the  depth  of  his  disap- 
pointment, and  they  were  well  assured  that  his  haughty 
and  irascible  spirit  would  never  brook  an  injury.  Seizing 
their  hatchets  and  bows,  Sassacus  and  his  young  men  sprang 
off  into  the  woods  to  discover,  if  possible,  the  delinquent 
bride.  Long  and  diligent  was  their  search ;  every  glade 
and  dell  was  explored,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  Her  canoe 
was  gone,  and  no  traces  of  it  or  of  her  could  be  found. 
Silent  and  dejected,  they  returned  to  the  scene  of  their  fes- 
tivity; all  but  Sassacus.  He  came  not.  For  hours  they 
awaited  him,  indulging  a  feeble  hope  that  he  had  been  more 
successful ;  but  even  this,  faint  as  it  was,  was  dashed  by  the 


TRACES    OF    THE    INDIAN.  2$ 

approach  of  the  chief,  wearing  a  look  of  despair.  He  had 
seen  his  bride  unmoor  her  skiff,  and,  guessing  her  intention, 
had  run  along  the  shore,  keeping  parallel  with  the  course, 
intending  to  surprise  the  fair  fugitive  by  seizing  her  in  his 
arms  just  as  she  should  spring  to  the  land.  She  had  eluded 
his  sight  by  rowing  under  the  cover  of  the  woods  on  the  op- 
posite shore,  and  he  began  to  fear  she  had  given  him  the  slip, 
after  all  his  vigilance,  when  a  narrow  opening  in  the  trees 
let  in  the  moonbeams  upon  her,  enough  to  project  the  out- 
line of  her  form.  All  at  once  he  saw  her  drop  her  oar, 
bend  her  ear  to  the  water  in  the  act  of  listening,  then  sink 
heavily  beneath  the  wave.  He  remembered  the  heartless 
sacrifice,  and  his  native  superstition  overcame  him.  His 
bride  had  perished  by  the  unseen  power  of  the  Evil  Spirit, 

"  After  two  days  had  elapsed,  Wequoash  had  appeared  in 
the  village  bearing  the  body  of  the  panther.  He  was  received 
by  the  aged  and  the  children,  the  women  and  the  warriors, 
with  yells  of  delight;  for  his  burden  explained  the  cause  of 
his  absence,  and,  as  usually  happens  when  men  find  they 
have  been  indulging  in  groundless  suspicions,  their  regard 
for  him  rose  to  a  higher  pitch  than  before.  On  learning  the 
miserable  fate  of  lano,  he  was  smitten  with  deep  apparent 
grief;  he  smote  his  breast,  and  uttered  the  most  frantic 
exclamations,  like  one  distracted.  Recovering  at  length,  he 


24  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

applied  himself  with  unwearied  assiduity  to  console  the 
unhappy  Sassacus,  and  by  degrees  the  chief  became  more 
and  more  cheerful,  till  he  appeared  to  have  quite  forgotten 
his  sorrow.  His  gladness  was  but  temporary,  for  heaviness 
and  depression  of  spirits  again  stole  over  him,  which  termi- 
nated soon  after  with  his  life.  Wequoash  had  now  obtained 
complete  revenge;  his  rival  and  his  false-hearted  mistress 
were  both  sleeping  in  the  arms  of  death,  and  no  one  sus- 
pected his  agency  in  destroying  them.  He  assumed  the 
command  of  the  tribe,  and  having  mourned  a  decent  in- 
terval over  the  dead  body  of  his  predecessor,  he  sought  to 
obliterate  his  memory  from  the  minds  of  the  people  by 
leading  them  out  to  battle  against  the  brave  Narragansetts. 
Since,  among  savages,  personal  prowess  is  the  only  basis  of 
distinction,  his  bravery  and  address  in  war  soon  rendered 
him  a  universal  favorite. 

VI. 

"The  thirteenth  moon  had  just  begun  to  wane  when 
Wequoash,  returning  one  evening  from  a  hunting  expedi- 
tion, seated  himself  upon  a  fallen  tree  near  the  shore  of 
the  Hobomak,  and  not  far  from  the  spot  where,  the  year 
before,  he  had  taken  such  vengeance  upon  the  solitary 
maiden.  ...  As  he  sat  thus  in  troubled  contempla- 
tion, a  flame  appeared  streaming  from  the  water  just  over 


TRACES    OF    THE    INDIAN.  2$ 

the  place  where  the  bones  of  the  maiden  slept,  and  casting 
upon  everything  around  a  blue  mephitic  light,  of  all,  the 
most  fearful.  Presently  a  canoe  arose,  and  floated  straight 
towards  him,  as  if  animated  by  an  invisible  agency.  Urged 
by  an  irresistible  influence,  he  entered  it,  and  was  wafted 
directly  to  the  strange  illumination,  which  gradually  resolved 
into  a  form  like  the  form  of  the  murdered  lano,  only  the 
expression  was  more  sad  and  pensive.  The  spirit  gazed 
intently  upon  him  for  a  long  time,  unable  as  he  was  to  resist 
the  fascination;  then,  uttering  a  piercing  shriek,  melted  away 
from  his  sight.  He  fell  in  a  state  of  insensibility ;  on  recov- 
ering, he  found  himself  lying  by  the  fallen  tree,  suffering 
from  extreme  exhaustion,  and  with  much  difficulty  crept 
home  before  morning. 

"  Another  revolution  of  the  seasons  brought  another  similar 
night.  The  lightnings  gleamed  vividly  in  the  far-off  hori- 
zon ;  the  fireflies  flitted  over  the  morass ;  stillness  reigned ; 
the  blue  flame  arose ;  the  skiff  came  to  the  shore ;  the  chief- 
tain was  again  impelled  to  embark ;  the  sorrowful  form  of 
the  dead  again  appeared  before  him,  and,  exclaiming/  Only 
once  more,'  again  vanished  into  the  abyss  of  waters. 

"  Deep  melancholy  now  pervaded  the  mind  of  Wequoash. 
For  days  he  wrould  roam  the  forest  without,,  food,  and 
shunning  the  faces  of  his  fellow-men.  ...  In  this  man- 
ner the  year  wore  away,  and  the  fatal  night  returned.  This 


26  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

time  he  assembled  the  tribe  by  the  shore,  and,  in  a  long  and 
pathetic  harangue,  disclosed  to  them  how  that  it  was  by  his 
hand  the  canoe  of  lano  had  sunk;  how  that  he  had  poisoned 
the  sorrowing  Sassacus  under  the  pretence  of  administering 
exhilarating  draughts.  He  then  recounted  his  interviews 
with  the  unavenged  spirit  of  the  injured  girl,  and  darkly 
alluded  to  the  fate  that  there  awaited  him.  Petrified  with 
fear,  they  saw  him  enter  the  approaching  canoe,  and  move 
passively  to  the  mysterious  flame.  A  form  arose,  but  it  was 
not  the  form  of  lano.  Her  gentle  spirit  could  not  come  for 
vengeance.  It  was  the  form  of  Sassacus,  dark,  terrific,  con- 
founding. '  This  is  my  hour,'  it  said.  Wequoash  drew  his 
robe  closer  about  him,  and  folded  his  arms  in  token  of  resig- 
nation. A  black  cloud  hovered  over  him;  a  vivid  flash,  a 
stunning  thunder-peal,  a  few  big  rain-drops,  —  all  was  over; 
thick  darkness  succeeded ;  the  chieftain  was  seen  no  more. 
"The  season  was  afterwards  celebrated  by  the  tribe  for 
man/  generations,  and  a  song  was  composed,  which  the 
maidens  sung  at  their  marriage  festivals,  —  a  mournful  thing, 
descriptive  of  the  character  and  fortunes  of  the  rival  chiefs 
and  the  too-much-loved  lano.  Whenever  they  crossed  the 
Hobomak,  they  each  carried  a  stone  and  sunk  it  at  the  fatal 
spot,  till  at  length  the  pile  rose  above  the  water.  It  has 
since  fallen  away  by  the  action  of  the  waves,  but  even  now  it 
may  be  seen  when  the  surface  is  perfectly  tranquil.  A  mys- 


TRACES    OF    THE    INDIA \.  2J 

terious  dread  still  attaches  to  it,  and  if  the  fisherman  chance 
to  strike  it  with  his  oar,  he  hurries  away  as  from  a  place  to 
be  avoided." 


After  the  white  man  became  somewhat  established  in  the 
land,  the  Indians  themselves  were  often  called  by  English 
names.  A  few  places  still  bear  these  adopted  names  of  their 
Indian  owners.  The  most  interesting  in  Westborough  is 
Jackstraw  hill. 

In  his  day,  Jack  Straw  was  a  famous  man,  —  the  first 
Indian  baptized  in  the  English  colonies,  taken  to  England 
from  Virginia,  in  "  Sir  Walter  Raleigh's  service,"  proving 
himself  a  faithful  friend  of  the  white  man,  always  ready  to 
help  him  by  strength  or  stratagem ;  but  after  all,  finding  that 
his  Indian  nature  was  the  strongest  part  of  him,  he  returned 
to  this  country,  according  to  Governor  Winthrop,  and 
"turned  Indian  again."  (Winthrop's  Journal,  I.,  52.)  Ac- 
cepting the  name  he  so  little  deserved,  of  Jack  Straw,  after 
one  of  "the  greatest  rebyls  that  ever  was  in  England,"  he 
continued  occasionally  to  serve  the  English  as  servant  and 
interpreter,  and  probably  ended  his  days  within  the  limits  of 
this  town. 

So  much  we  learn  from  the  histories ;  from  tradition, 
only  that  an  old  Indian  named  Jackstraw  once  owned  all  the 


28  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

land  in  the  vicinity  of  the  reservoir  and  No.  5  school-house, 
and  that  he  had  his  wigwam  on  the  summit  of  the  hill, 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  west  of  the  school-house.  He 
was  soon  forgotten,  but  Jackstravv  hill  is  his  monument ;  and 
so  it  happens  that  his  name  is  spoken  in  town  every  day. 
His  land  was  granted,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  to  the  widow  of  Richard  Beers,  who  fell,  bravely  de- 
fending Deerfield  against  the  savages.  This  grant  of  land, 
described  as  being  "  at  a  place  called  Jack  Straw's  Hill,"  em- 
braced the  present  town  reservoir  and  District  No.  5  school, 
and  farms  in  that  vicinity.  *  (Hist,  of  Wore.  Co.,  II.,  1336.) 
There  were  three  hundred  acres  in  the  farm. 

In  1675  a  party  of  eleven  Indians  attacked  the  house  of 
Mr.  Thomas  Eames,  of  Framingham,  he  being  absent,  killed 
his  wife  and  some  of  his  children,  and  carried  the  rest  away. 
In  this  company  there  were  three  —  a  father  and  two  sons 
—  bearing  the  name  of  Jackstraw.  They  lived  in  Hopkinton. 
They  were  probably  son  and  grandsons  of  the  Westborough 
Jack  Straw.  They  were  tried,  convicted,  and  executed,  in 
spite  of  the  pathetic  petition  which  they  addressed  to  the 
Court  of  Assistants,  in  which  they  said:  "  You  were  pleased 
(of  your  own  benignity),  not  for  any  desert  of  ours,  to  give 
forth  your  declaration,  dated  the  iQth  of  June,  wherein  'you 
were  pleased  to  promise  life  and  liberty  unto  such  of  your 
enemies  as  did  come  in  and  submit  themselves  to  your 


TRACES    OF    THE    INDIAN.  2g 

mercy,  and  order,  and  disposal ;  "  and  they  further  claimed 
that  they  took  no  active  part  in  the  massacre. 

Sewall,  in  his  Journal,  thus  makes  record  of  their  death : 
"September  21,  1776,  Stephen  Goble,  of  Concord,  was  exe- 
cuted for  the  murder  of  Indians.  Three  Indians  for  firing 
Eames,  his  house,  and  murder.  The  weather  was  cloudy 
and  rawly  cold,  though  little  or  no  rain.  Mr.  Mighil 
prayed;  four  others  sat  on  the  gallows,  —  two  men  and  two 
impudent  women,  one  of  which,  at  least,  laughed  on  the  gal- 
lows, as  several  testifieth."  (Temple's  Hist,  of  Framingham, 

P.  78.) 

This  seems  to  have  been  the  last  mention  of  the  Jackstraws 
in  this  vicinity.  About  1845,  a  young  Indian  from  Maine 
came  to  Hopkinton,  and  worked  for  Elbridge  G.  Rice.  He 
was  savage  and  ugly,  and  bore  the  name  of  Enoch  Straw. 

In  the  northern  part  of  Northborough  there  is  a  sheet  of 
water,  ninety  by  seventy-five  rods,  called  "  Solomon's  pond," 
"  from  the  circumstance,"  says  Peter  Whitney,  in  his  "  History 
of  Worcester  County,"  published  in  1793,  "  of  an  Indian  of 
that  name  being  drowned  therein,  by  falling  through  a  raft 
on  which  he  was  fishing."  In  the  early  part  of  this  century 
an  Indian's  canoe  was  found  sunk  in  the  pond.  It  was  sup- 
posed to  have  belonged  to  this  Solomon. 

An  Indian  has  been  said  to  be  responsible  for  the  old 
name  of  the  pretty  rounded  hill  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the 


30  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

Northborough  road,  just  before  reaching  the  village.  It  was 
called,  in  deed  and  grants,  "  Licor  hill,"  before  1662.  In  1836 
it  was  rechristened  Mount  Assabet.  The  story  about  the 
Indian  and  his  bottle  is  here  given,  copied  from  a  small  paper 
published  at  that  time  by  the  boys  of  Dr.  Allen's  school. 

"  There  was  formerly,  at  the  foot  of  this  hill,  a  tavern 
where  an  Indian  stopped.  On  his  return  home  he  passed  over 
the  hill,  and  sat  down  under  a  tree  to  take  another  refreshing 
draught,  not  being  able  to  resist  the  temptation  any  longer. 
When  he  had  drunk  until  he  was  entirely  disabled  from  pro- 
ceeding any  farther,  his  bottle  (one  of  the  ancient  form,  in 
the  shape  of  an  old  keg),  by  some  unhappy  accident,  slipped 
from  his  grasp  and  rolled  down  the  hill.  The  Indian  eyed  it 
wistfully  on  its  rapid  course,  and,  hearing  the  peculiar  sound 
of  the  liquor  issuing  from  its  mouth,  called  after  it,  '  Ay, 
good,  good,  good  !  I  hear  you,  but  I  can't  get  at  you.' " 

There  were,  as  early  as  this,  a  few  Indians  in  this  vicinity 
who  spoke  English,  but  probably  no  tavern  was  built  on  the 
"  cow  commons  "  of  Marlborough.  The  Indian,  doubtless, 
had  brought  his  bottle  farther  than  the  above  historian  sup- 
poses. 

Besides  these  few  names,  there  are  no  traces  of  the  early 
Indians,  except  arrow-heads  and  spear-points  turned  up  by 
the  farmer's  plough,  or  found  on  the  shore  of  North  pond  in 
Hopkinton,  in  the  fall,  when  the  water  is  low. 


THE  FIRST  SETTLERS. 


CHAPTER    II. 
THE   FIRST   SETTLERS. 

JHE  larger  part  of  Westborough  was  originally  a 
part  of  Maryborough.  In  1717,  it,  with  North- 
borough,  was  set  off  as  a  separate  town.  Be- 
fore that  time  there  had  been  a  small  village  here,  called 
Chauncy.  Northborough  was  usually  spoken  of  as  the 
"  cow  commons,"  or  "  cattle  pasture."  So  many  cattle  were 
sent  there  from  Marlborough  for  pasturage,  that  several 
houses  were  built  solely  for  the  use  of  the  herders,  the  first 
house  put  up  within  the  limits  of  the  town  being  designed 
for  this  purpose. 

These  first  settlers  left  no  separate  records,  and  the  men- 
tion of  them  in  the  Proprietor's  and  Town  Records  of  Marl- 
borough  is  meagre.  They  settled  where  the  land  attracted 
them,  built  themselves  houses,  and  in  times  of  danger  chose 
some  of  the  most  centrally  located  for  special  fortification, 
sometimes  even  building  one  particularly  adapted  to  resisting 
Indian  attacks.  These  were  called  garrison-houses,  and  were 
often  the  centre  of  Indian  tragedies.  There  were  two  such 


32  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

houses  within  the  present  bounds  of  Westborough,  owned  by 
two  brothers. 

One  of  them,  that  of  Edmund  Rice,  was  situated  on  land 
now  owned  by  Harding  Allen.  The  cellar  was  filled  up 
some  years  ago.  It  was  on  a  knoll  on  the  left-hand  side 
of  the  road  from  Westborough  to  the  Lyman  school,  just 
before  reaching  a  narrow  lane  enclosed  on  each  side  by  a 
stone-wall.  The  lot  is  covered  with  apple-trees.  The  cellar 
was  between  the  second  and  third  apple-trees  from  the 
further  front  corner. 

One  of  the  stories  that  the  old  people  a  hundred  years  ago 
told  to  their  grandchildren  was  about  Edmund  Rice's  cap- 
ture by  Graylock,  an  old  Indian  living  in  the  forests  around 
Westborough,  who  occasionally  made  raids  on  the  settlers. 
The  women  during  the  day  were  clustered  together  in  the 
garrison-houses,  while  the  men,  with  their  guns  near  by, 
cleared  their  farms. 

Edmund  Rice  was  a  young  man,  fitted  by  nature  and  cir- 
cumstances to  be  a  pioneer  in  a  new  country.  He  was  bold 
and  fearless,  convinced  that,  whatever  trouble  might  come 
upon  others,  he  would  live  to  make  for  himself  a  name  in 
the  annals  of  the  new  town.  He  would  like  to  «see  the 
Indians  attempt  to  capture  him  !  Let  Graylock  come,  —  he 
might  get  the  worst  of  it ! 

One  morning   Rice  was  swinging  his  scythe  through  the 


THE    FIRS 7    SETTLERS.  33 

tall  grass,  with  no  suspicion  of  the  dusky  form  creeping 
stealthily  towards  him. 

With  one  quick,  agile  spring,  Graylock  was  between  him 
and  his  gun.  He  himself  was  armed,  and  all  that  Rice 
could  do  was  to  take  in  silence  the  trail  pointed  out  to  him, 
his  captor  following  with  levelled  gun. 

So  they  went  for  some  distance,  Rice,  on  the  way,  picking 
up  a  stout  stick,  upon  which  he  leaned  more  heavily  as  they 
advanced  on  their  journey. 

There  was  but  one  chance  of  escape  for  him,  and  with  his 
usual  boldness  and  intrepidity  he  took  it.  Turning  around 
quickly,  when  he  saw^  that  for  a  moment  Graylock  was  look- 
ing in  another  direction,  he  felled  him  to  the  ground  with  his 
heavy  stick.  Leaving  him  dead,  he  ran  back  lightly  over 
the  fresh  trail,  and  went  on  with  his  morning's  work. 

This  was  probably  before  1704,  when  the  Indians  revenged 
the  death  of  Graylock  by  killing  one  of  Mr.  Rice's  sons  and 
capturing  two  others.  This  massacre  occurred  near  the 
garrison-house  of  his  brother,  Thomas  Rice,  which  was 
situated  on  the  Christopher  Whitney  estate,  on  Main  street, 
then  the  "  old  Connecticut  way." 

The  account  of  this  raid  was  written  by  Rev.  Peter 
Whitney,  the  old  Northborough  minister  and  friend  of  Mr. 
Parkman.  The  latter  doubtless  heard  the  full  particulars 
of  the  story  from  Timothy  Rice,  one  of  the  boys.  He 
writes  :  — 


34 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


"  On  August  8,  1704,  as  several  persons  were  busy  in 
spreading  flax  on  a  plain  about  eighty  rods  from  the  house 
of  Mr.  Thomas  Rice  (the  first  settler  in  Westborough,  and 
several  years  representative  of  the  town  of  Marlborough  in 
the  General  Court),  and  a  number  of  boys  with  them,  seven, 
some  say  ten,  Indians  suddenly  rushed  down  a  wooded  hill 
near  by,  and  knocking  the  least  of  the  boys  on  the  head 
(Nahor,  about  five  years  old,  son  of  Mr.  Edmund  Rice,  and 
the  first  person  ever  buried  in  Westborough),  they  seized 
two,  Asher  and  Adonijah,  —  sons  of  Mr.  Thomas  Rice,  — the 
oldest  about  ten,  and  the  other  about  eight  years  of  age,  and 
two  others,  Silas  and  Timothy,  sons  of  Mr.  Edmund  Rice, 
above-named,  of  about  nine  and  seven  years  of  age,  and 
carried  them  away  to  Canada." 

In  about  four  years  Asher  was  redeemed.  Adonijah  mar- 
ried and  settled  in  Canada,  while  Silas  and  Timothy  mixed 
with  the  Indians,  had  Indian  wives  and  children,  and  lost  all 
knowledge  of  the  English  language.  Timothy  became  one 
of  their  chiefs.  They  called  him  Oughtsorongoughton.  In 
September,  1740,  he  returned  to  Westborough  and  made  a 
short  visit.  Mr.  Parkman  writes  :  "  They  viewed  the  house 
where  Mr.  Rice  dwelt,  and  the  place  from  whence  the  chil- 
dren were  captivated,  of  both  which  he  retained  a  clear  re- 
membrance, as  he  did  likewise  of  several  elderly  persons 
who  were  then  living,  though  he  had  forgot  our  language." 


THE    FIRST    SETTLERS.  35 

They  then  visited  Governor  Belcher.  Timothy,  as  chief  of 
the  Cagnawagas,  was  quite  prominent  in  the  history  of  the 
time,  and  influential  in  keeping  the  Indians  from  joining  the 
English  during  the  Revolution.  The  Cagnawagas  were 
the  principal  tribe  of  the  Canadian  Six  Nations.  They 
"  peremptorily  refused  "  to  join  the  king's  troops  in  Boston, 
saying,  that  if  they  are  obliged  to  take  up  arms  on  either 
side,  "  that  they  shall  take  part  on  the  side  of  their  brethren, 
the  English  in  New  England."  Both  brothers  were  living  in 
1790. 

This  old  garrison-house,  as  appears  above,  was  standing  in 
1740.  When  John  Robinson  succeeded  Mr.  Parkman  in 
the  ministry,  he  bought  this  place.  Dr.  Bond  was  the 
next  owner ;  then  it  was  purchased  and  occupied  by  John 
Fayerweather,  the  father  of  John  A.  Fayerweather.  John 
Fayerweather  built  the  present  house  seventy-two  or  three 
years  ago.  There  was  at  that  time  on  the  place  a  large 
house,  showing  many  signs  of  age  and  the  usual  heavy  tim- 
bers. The  new  house  was  built  partly  on  the  old  cellar.  This 
old  house  may  have  been  the  garrison-house,  or  perhaps 
it  stood  on  the  site  of  Reuben  Boynton's  barn,  where, 
seventy  years  ago,  there  was  a  cellar  and  well. 

Daniel  Warren,  whose  name  appears  among  "  the  first 
inhabitants  of  Westborough,"  lived  on  the  farm,  now  divided 
into  the  three  farms  of  Seleucus  Warren,  Mrs.  Austin  Har- 


2 6  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

rington,  and  George  F.  Harrington,  In  times  of  alarm  he 
carried  his  family  to  the  Thomas  Rice  garrison.  On  one 
such  occasion  he  started  with  them  all,  but  found  he  could 
not  reach  the  place  with  so  many.  One  little  boy  had  to  be 
left  in  the  woods,  concealed  as  carefully  as  a  father's  love 
and  anxiety  could  devise,  while  he  went  with  the  others  to 
the  garrison,  and  returned  for  the  little  one. 

Mr.  William  D.  Howells  has  added  another  interest  to  the 
old  place  by  making  it  the  home  of  his  heroine  in  "  Annie 
Kilburn,"  and  thus  describes  it  as  it  now  appears :  — 

"  They  came  up  in  sight  of  the  old  square  house,  standing 
back  a  good  distance  from  the  road,  with  a  broad  sweep  of 
grass  sloping  down  before  it  into  a  little  valley,  and  rising 
again  to  the  wall  fencing  the  grounds  from  the  street.  The 
wall  was  overhung  there  by  a  company  of  magnificent  elms, 
which  turned  and  formed  one  side  of  the  avenue  leading  to 
the  house.  Their  tops  met  and  mixed  somewhat  incongru- 
ously with  those  of  the  stiff  dark  maples,  which  more  densely 
shaded  the  other  side  of  the  lane." 

There  was  another  garrison-house  within  the  old  limits  of 
Westborough,  owned  by  Samuel  Goodenow.  It  was  near 
here  that  Mary  Goodenow,  his  daughter,  met  her  death  at 
the  hands  of  the  Indians.  The  "  Boston  News  Letter  "  of 
August  25,  1707,  mentioned  it  in  this  way:  "On  Monday, 
the  1 6th  current,  thirteen  Indians  on  the  frontier  surprised 


THE    FIRST    SETTLERS.  37 

two  men  at  their  labors  in  the  meadows  at  Maryborough, 
about  four  miles  distant  from  the  body  of  the  town,  and 
took  them  both  alive ;  and,  as  they  passed  out  of  the  town, 
they' took  a  woman  also  in  their  marching  off,  whom  they 
killed." 

Dr.  Allen,  in  writing  his  "  History  of  Northborough,"  pub- 
lished in  1826,  gives  an  account  of  the  massacre  in  these 
words:  "'As  Mary  Goodenow,  daughter  of  Samuel,  and 
Mrs.  Mary  Fay,  wife  of  Gershom  Fay,  were  gathering  herbs 
in  the  adjoining  meadow,  a  party  of  Indians,  twenty-four  in 
number,  all  of  whom  are  said  to  have  been  stout  warriors, 
were  seen  issuing  from  the  woods  and  making  for  them. 
Mrs.  Fay  succeeded  in  effecting  her  escape.  She  was 
closely  pursued  by  a  party  of  the  enemy,  but  before  they 
came  up,  had  time  to  enter  the  garrison  and  to  fasten  the 
gate  of  the  enclosure.  There  fortunately  happened  to  be 
there  one  man  within,  the  rest  of  the  men  belonging  to  the 
garrison  being  in  the  fields  at  work.  Their  savage  invaders 
attempted  in  vain  to  break  through  the  enclosure.  These 
heroic  defenders,  by  dint  of  great  exertion,  maintained  the 
unequal  conflict  till  a  party  of  friends,  alarmed  by  the  report 
of  the  muskets,  came  to  the  relief,  when  the  enemy  betook 
themselves  to  flight. 

"The  other  unfortunate  young  woman,  Miss  Goodenow, 
being  retarded  in  her  flight  by  lameness,  was  seized  by  her 


38  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

merciless  pursuers,  dragged  across  the  brook  to  the  side  of 
the  hill  a  little  south  of  the  road,  where  she  was  killed  and 
scalped,  and  where  her  mangled  body  was  afterwards  found 
and  buried,  and  where  her  grave  is  shown  at  this  day. 

"On  the  following  day,  the  enemy  were  pursued  by  a 
company  of  about  thirty  men  from  Marlborough  and  Lan- 
caster, and  overtaken  in  what  is  now  Sterling,  where  a  hard 
conflict  ensued,  in  which  nine  of  their  number  and  two  of 
our  men  were  slain.  In  one  of  their  packs  was  found  the 
scalp  of  the  unfortunate  Miss  Goodenow,  which  was  the  first 
intimation  that  was  obtained  of  her  melancholy  fate." 

Her  grave,  now  marked  by  stones,  and  soon  to  be  honored 
by  the  town  with  a  monument,  was  opened  a  few  years  ago 
by  Mr.  A.  B.  Howe,  in  the  presence  of  Rev.  Horace  Button 
and  Rev.  H.  P.  BeForest.  Part  of  the  skull  and  a  thigh- 
bone were  found. 

Twenty  years  ago,  a  writer,  the  "  Count  Johannes,"  thus 
described  her  grave,  in  the  New  York  "  News."  He  says 
that  he  had  been  attracted  to  the  spot  by  a  lithograph 
seen  in  one  of  the  Worcester  hotels,  entitled  the  "  Grave  of 
Mary  Goodenow."  He  writes  :  "  About  two  hundred  feet 
across  a  field  of  furze,  moss,  and  grass,  stand,  and  some  six 
feet  apart,  two  wild  pear-trees  at  the  head  and  foot  of  a 
raised  stone-covered  grave.  Between  the  broken  and  mossy 
rocks  of  the  grave,  flowers  were  growing,  and  among  them 


THE    FIRST    SETTLERS.  39 

the   perfuming   violet,  as   if  fulfilling  the   prophetic  wish   of 
Shakespeare  in   regard  to  the  grave  of  the  fair  Ophelia,  — 

"  'Lay  her  in  the  earth, 
And  from  her  fair  and  unpolluted  flesh 
May  violets  spring.'" 

Dr.  Allen  locates  the  garrison-house  on  the  right-hand 
side  of  the  road  going  from  the  centre  of  the  town  on  the 
"  great  road  "  to  Marlborough,  just  before  crossing  Stirrup 
brook.  The  house  just  beyond,  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the 
road,  now  owned  and  occupied  by  William  Bartlett,  was 
standing  eighteen  years  after  the  massacre,  when  it  was  pur- 
chased by  his  ancestor,  Ensign  Daniel  Bartlett.  If  not  the 
original  garrison-house,  it  was  nearly  or  quite  contemporane- 
ous with  it;  and  a  well  in  the  front  yard,  now  filled  up,  was 
said  by  Mr.  Bartlett's  grandfather  to  have  been  the  old  gar- 
rison well.  It  was  when  standing  by  an  attic  window  in  the 
newer  part  of  this  old  house  —  the  west  end  —  that  Ensign 
Bartlett  was  fired  upon  by  some  Indians,  the  bullet  passing 
through  the  window. 

Within  the  limits  of  Westborough  there  is  no  house  left 
of  those  built  by  the  original  proprietors ;  though  the  one 
of  James  Miller,  who  was  annexed  with  others  to  the  town 
in  1728,  was  burned  only  three  or  four  years  ago.  The 
stone  chimney  of  this  house,  thirteen  feet  wide,  still  stands 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


on  Jackstraw  hill,  west  of  the  road, —  the  top  having  fallen 
over,  and  the  three  large  fireplaces  opening  disconsolately 
to    the    outside    air.        This 
house    was     referred    to     as 
"  James  Miller's  new  house," 
in   1726. 

Very    near    the     West- 
borough    line,    but    falling 
within  the  bounds  of  South- 
borough,  stands  one  of  the 
oldest  houses  in  the  vicinity. 


It  was  built  in  the  typical  style  of  the  period,  with  an 
immense  stone  chimney,  like  that  of  James  Miller's,  con- 
taining three  flues.  There  is  a  room  on  the  right  of  this 


THE    FIRST    SETTLERS.  4I 

chimney,  with  a  fireplace  extending  half  one  side,  where 
the  blackened  stones  can  still  be  seen.  Back  of  this  is  a 
long,  narrow  room  used  for  kitchen,  dining-room,  and  family 
living-room.  These  are  the  only  rooms  on  the  lower  floor, 
and  upstairs  there  is  the  one  chamber  over  the  parlor,  while 
over  the  kitchen  is  the  narrow  attic,  moderately  high  nearest 
the  chimney,  but  shut  in  on  the  outer  edge  by  the  sloping 
roof.  When  originally  built,  this  house,  like  nearly  all, 
was  planned  for  two  families.  The  third  fireplace  in  the 
chimney,  that  on  the  left  of  the  house,  opens  out-of-doors, 
though  a  temporary  door  was  built  to  keep  out  the  cold. 
If  more  room  had  been  needed,  a  room  like  the  one  on  the 
right  would  have  been  added  on  the  left. 

A  house  built  in  similar  style  is  the  one  now  standing 
on  Main  street,  owned  by  George  A.  Ferguson.  This, 
more  than  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  years  ago,  had  re- 
ceived the  usual  addition  for  the  married  son's  accommoda- 
tion. The  chimney  is  of  brick,  which  was  manufactured 
very  early  in  the  young  town's  history  from -the  "clay 
lands "  in  Marlborough,  Southborough,  and  Northborough. 
This  house  was  built  by  Moses  Brigham,  and  here  he 
brought  his  bride  Mehetabel.  She  was  a  member  of  the 
Grout  family,  and  her  wooing  by  young  Brigham  caused 
many  heart-burnings  and  wild  frenzies  of  jealousy  to  the 
daughter  of  his  step-mother.  One  evening,  when  she  knew 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


that  he'planned  to  ride  over  to  see  Mehetabel,  she  slipped 
out  to  the  stable  and  hamstrung  Selim,  his  favorite  horse. 
Moses  Brigham  lived  here  until  his  death ;  then  his  son-in- 


law,  Jonathan  Forbes,  took  possession  of  the  north  end  of 
the  house,  and  the  widowed  Mehetabel  lived  in  the  south 
end.  It  remained  in  the  possession  of  the  Forbes  family 
until  about  twenty  years  ago.  It  has  the  usual  curiosities 
of  the  carpentry  of  those  days,  one  of  the  doors  —  that 


THE    FIRST    SETTLERS. 


43 


from  the  sitting-room  to  the  kitchen  —  having  dim  heart- 
shaped  panes  of  glass  set  in  the  upper  half. 

There  is  now  standing  in  Sudbury,  not  far  from  the  Way- 
side Inn,  the  Walker  garrison,  built  and  used  for  that 
purpose  during  King  Philip's  war.  The  timbers  are  very 
heavy,  the  outside  walls  are  of  planks  set  up  endwise, 
and  fastened  to  the  timbers  by  large  wooden  pins.  Outside 
of  the  planks  it  is  clapboarded.  It  is  probably  the  only  one 
of  its  kind  within  easy  access  of  Westborough,  and  is  one  of 
the  very  few  near  by  which  has  attained  an  age  of  two 
hundred  years.  It  is  easily  reached  from  Westborough  by 
driving  nearly  to  the  Wayside  Inn,  and  taking  the  last 
road  to  the  left  before  reaching  the  inn.  Following  the 
road  about  a  mile  we  come  to  two  short  lanes  turning 
abruptly  to  the  left,  and  leaving  the  main  road  at  nearly  the 
same  point.  A  few  rods  on  the  second  of  these  lanes 
brings  us  to  this  old  red  garrison,  now  owned  by  Willard 
Walker,  the  fourth  generation  of  that  family  who  has  lived 
in  the  house. 

John  Belknap  was  not  among  the  original  settlers  of  West- 
borough,  but  came  to  town  soon  after  its  incorporation. 
He  built  a  log  hut  near  Rocklawn,  where  he  lived  alone. 
Every  evening  he  made  a  fire  around  his  hut,  to  keep  off 
the  wolves  which  he  heard  howling  all  night.  During  the 
day  he  worked  in  his  field,  his  gun  by  his  sicfe.  One  day, 


44 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


glancing  up  from  his  work,  he  thought  the  woods  seemed 
nearer  to  him  than  usual.  He  kept  on  working,  but  when 
he  looked  up  a  second  time  they  appeared  still  nearer. 
Looking  closely,  he  saw  that  a  large  company  of  Indians 
were  coming  towards  him,  each  one  carrying  a  small  white 
birch.  He  had  seen  them  in  time  to  get  to  the  house,  and 
so  escaped  capture. 

Part  of  the  Belknap  farm  is  now  owned  by  Willard 
Loring.  It  is  just  in  the  corner  of  the  Flanders  road  as 
you  turn  to  go  to  the  mill.  A  hen-house  is  built  over 
the  cellar  of  his  old  home. 

The  name  "Flanders,"  according  to  a  wide-spread  tradi- 
tion, was  given  to  this  part  of  the  town  from  the  resemblance 
of  its  society  to  that  in  old  Flanders,  usually  devastated  by 
war.  They  quarrelled  over  rights  of  way,  over  property 
bounds,  over  personal  and  family  matters ;  they  were 
brought  before  the  church,  prayed  over  and  striven  with. 
The  name  was  in  common  use  more  than  a  hundred 
years  ago. 

On  this  farm  John  Belknap  spent  the  rest  of  his  days. 
.Here,  at  the  age  of  eighty,  he  began  his  married  life  with 
Joanna  Kindall,  twice  widowed,  her  first  husband  being 
Jonathan  Forbes,  Jr.  Neither  men  nor  women  in  those  days 
believed  in  "single  blessedness,"  and  Joanna  had  taken  to 


THE    FIRST    SETTLERS.  45 

herself  a  second  husband,  before  her  portion  of  her  first 
husband's  property  had  been  set  off. 

Among  the  farms  annexed  to  Westborough  in  1728 
was  that  of  James  Bowman.  This  farm  has  been  in  the 
possession  of  his  descendants  until  within  a  few  years. 
It  is  the  second  on  the  west  side  of  the  road  leading  south 
from  No.  5  school-house.  When  he  first  went  to  the  place, 
it  was  entirely  surrounded  by  woods.  To  the  south-west 
lies  a  high  hill,  called  Vine  hill,  from  the  innumerable  "dry 
strawberry "  vines  (Potentilla  Canadensis)  which  covered 
its  sides. 

One  time,  when  he  was  hoeing  at  the  foot  of  this  hill, 
he  heard  steps  behind  him.  Turning  around  he  saw  a 
large  bear.  With  the  hoe  in  his  hand  he  ran  to  the  house, 
and  succeeded  in  reaching  it  safely.  Getting  his  gun,  he 
came  out  and  shot  the  bear. 

His  son  inherited  the  place,  and  built  the  house  now 
standing.  In  1780  occurred  one  of  the  frightful  snow-storms 
which  sometimes  visited  New  England  in  the  last  century. 
After  the  storm  was  over,  the  snow  was  piled  up  to  the 
second-story  windows  of  this  house.  In  such  straits  him- 
self, Mr.  Bowman  remembered  his  less  fortunate  neighbors 
who  lived  in  one-story  houses.  Calling  his  boys  to  put  on 
their  rackets,  he  told  them  to  go  over  and  see  if  neighbor 
Tribbet  was  suffering  for  anything.  Tribbet  lived  in  the 


46 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


little  old  house  now  standing  next  to  No.  5  school-house, 
on  the  north  side. 

It  was  with  much  difficulty  they  found  the  hut,  —  a  faint 
line  of  smoke  on  the  surface  of  the  snow  finally  revealing 
the  chimney.  They  called  down  to  him :  — 

"  Anything  wanted,  Tribbet?  " 

"No,"  came  up  his  answer;  "blessed  be  nothing.  Go 
home  and  mind  your  cattle." 


OLD    ROADS    AND    TAVERNS.  47 


CHAPTER    III. 

OLD    ROADS    AND   TAVERNS. 

JEFORE  the  incorporation  of  Westborough,  there 
were  three  roads  to  Boston  passing  through  the 
territory  soon  to  become  the  new  town. 
They  all  went  by  the  name  of  Bay  path,  as  did  the  in- 
numerable trails  made  by  the  first  settlers  from  Massachu- 
setts Bay  to  the  inland  settlements.  In  the  "  Bay  Path  "  J. 
G.  Holland  has  given  a  description  of  the  one  leading  to 
Springfield,  which  is  equally  true  of  them  all.  He  says  it 
was  "  a  path  marked  by  trees  a  portion  of  the  distance,  and 
by  slight  clearings  of  brush  and  thicket  for  the  remainder. 
No  stream  was  bridged,  no  hill  graded,  and  no  marsh 
drained.  ...  It  was  the  one  way  left  open  through 
which  the  sweet  tide  of  sympathy  might  flow.  Every  rod 
had  been  prayed  over  by  friends  on  the  journey  and  friends 
at  home.  If  every  traveller  ha'd  raised  his  Ebenezer,  as  the 
morning  dawned  upon  his  trusting  sleep,  the  monuments 
would  have  risen  and  stood  like  mile-stones."  And  writing 
of  it  as  it  was  a  few  years  later  he  says:  "The  Bay  path 


48  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

had  been  changed  from  a  simple  bridle-path  to  a  worn  and 
frequented  highway.  Packed  horses  went  and  came  upon 
it  through  all  the  summer  and  autumn ;  land-hunters  in 
merry  parties  cantered  along  its  shady  aisles ;  emigrants 
coming  from  and  returning  to  the  Bay,  with  strange  freights 
of  children  and  household  stuffs,  and  droves  of  cows  and 
goats,  crept  along  the  solitudes  which  it  divided,  and  lighted 
nightly  their  lonely  fires." 

The  oldest  of  these  Bay  paths  passing  through  West- 
borough  was  the  old  "  Indian  trail,"  called  by  the  first  settlers 
the  "  Kenecticut  path,"  first  trodden  by  white  explorers  in 
1633,  when  John  Oldham,  Samuel  Hall,  and  two  others 
made  a  trip  from  the  Bay  to  the  river,  for  the  purpose  of 
exploring  the  country  and  trading  with  the  natives.  The 
Indians  treated  them  with  great  hospitality,  and  they 
lodged  every  night  in  Indian  towns.  (Winthrop's  Journal, 

i.,  in.) 

Two  years  later,  "  about  sixty  men,  women,  and  little 
children  went  by  land  towards  Connecticut,  with  their  cows, 
horses,  and  swine,  and  after  a  tedious  and  difficult  journey 
arrived  safe  there."  (Winthrop,  I.,  171.)' 

The  same  year  twelve  men  returned,  losing  one  of  their 
number  on  the  way. 

In  1636  Rev.  Thomas  Hooker,  pastor  of  the  church  at 
Newtown,  now  Cambridge,  with  most  of  his  congregation, 


OLD    ROADS    AND    TAVERNS.  4g 

accompanied  by  Rev.  Samuel  Stone,  went  to  Connecticut. 
Trumbull  (I.,  55)  says  :  "  They  had  no  cover  but  the  heaven, 
nor  any  lodgings  but  those  simple  nature  afforded  them. 
They  drove  with  them  one  hundred  head  of  cattle,  and  by 
the  way  subsisted  on  the  milk  of  their  cows.  Mrs.  Hooker 
was  borne  through  the  wilderness  upon  a  horse-litter.  The 
people  generally  carried  their  packs,  arms,  and  some  uten- 
sils. They  were  nearly  a  fortnight  on  the  journey." 

In  1637  Messrs.  Hooker  and  Stone  returned  by  water, 
but  at  the  same  time  a  party  of  twelve  or  more  came,  as 
Winthrop  says,  "  the  ordinary  way  by  land." 

This  path  commenced  at  Watertown,  and  from  there  to 
Framingham  it  is  called  a  highway  as  early  as  1643.  It 
crossed  the  Boston  &  Albany  Railroad  in  Framingham 
near  the  Para  Rubber  Works,  making  many  turns  before 
reaching  the  cold  spring  on  the  Frankland  place  in  Ash- 
land, from  there  coming  to  Westborough.  The  part  in 
town  which  can  still  be  followed  begins  at  the  barn  belong- 
ing to  Jacob  Mortimer  on  the  edge  of  Hopkinton.  For  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  or  more  it  is  a  good  cart-path,  easily  gone 
over  by  wagons.  Going  the  length  of  Mr.  Mortimer's  farm, 
most  of  the  way  through  a  wood-lot,  it  passes  north- 
east of  the  Lovell  Miller  place,  crosses  the  road  near  J.  A. 
Parker's  cider-mill,  and  is  lost  near  Rev.  H.  W.  Fay's. 
Judging  from  its  course  on  the  old  maps,  it  went  over  Mt. 


50  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

Pleasant,  and  formed  one  of  the  two  roads  entering  Hassa- 
namisco  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago.  It  is  still  spoken  of 
as  the  "  old  road  to  Sutton." 

The  second  of  these  roads,  called  in  the  histories,  as  is 
the  first,  the  Nipmuck  or  old  Connecticut  road,  was  prob- 
ably a  branch  of  the  first.  It  came  from  Marlborough, 
following,  according  to  tradition,  an  Indian  trail,  over  Rock 
hill.  Dr.  Allen,  in  his  "  History  of  Northborough, "  published 
in  1826,  says  it  crossed  east  of  Great  and  Little  Chaney, 
and  probably  it  followed  nearly  the  course  of  Westborough's 
present  Main  street,  into  Grafton.  It  must  have  joined  the 
trail  from  Hopkinton  somewhere  this  side  of  Grafton,  per- 
haps not  far  from  No.  6  school-house. 

Taking  the  first  cart-path  leading  into  the  woods  on  the 
right-hand  side  of  the  south  road  from  Northborough  to 
Marlborough,  very  near  the  highest  point  where  the  road 
crosses  Rock  hill,  and  following  it  for  about  four  hundred 
feet,  brings  us  to  its  intersection  with  the  old  trail  from 
Marlborough.  Continuing  in  nearly  the  same  direction  in 
which  we  started,  the  path  leads  to  the  railroad  ;  crossing 
this  where  there  is  a  deep  cut,  it  goes  over  Cedar  hill  (now 
Frye  hill),  nearly  over  Brigham  hill  (once  owned  by 
Winthrop  Brigham),  across  the  regular  Westborough  road 
near  where  there  is  at  present  a  cart-path  just  north  of  the 
Hospital  pasture.  Here  it  probably  divided,  —  one  part 


OLD    ROADS    AND     TAVERNS.  5  z 

going  down  the  line  of  the  present  road  as  far  as  Grafton, 
while  another  followed  for  a  little  way  this  cart-path ;  then 
went  between  Great  and  Little  Chauncy,  by  the  Elihu  Fay 
place,  now  owned  by  S.  W.  Rice,  by  Stephen  Maynard's 
old  house,  to  a  rise  of  ground  at  the  junction  of  the  Assabet 
and  Hop  brook,  called  Hasting's  island,  about  half  a  mile 
above  the  bridge  on,  the  Northborough  road.  This  island, 
so  called,  was  a  camping-ground  of  the  Indians  when  on 
their  fishing  excursions. 

Near  this  trail,  perhaps  directly  on  it,  was  the  place  where 
all  the  men,  women,  and  children  of  the  tribes  near  by 
congregated  for  their  annual  "  corn-dance."  The  exact 
spot,  handed  down  by  tradition  from  the  first  settlers,  is  the 
corner  where  three  farms  come  together,  —  that  of  the  Hos- 
pital, and  those  belonging  to  G.  P.  Heath  and  Anson  White. 
The  corn-dance  was  a  great  festival  among  the  Indians,  and 
is  still  kept  up  by  the  western  tribes.  Large  quantities  of 
fish  and  corn  were  made  ready,  fires  were  built,  and  while 
the  fish  was  cooking  and  the  corn  roasting,  the  guests 
danced  around  the  fire  to  the  monotonous  music  of  the 
"  tambo,"  —  a  kind  of  drum  thrummed  by  the  natives.  The 
sound  thus  produced  was  not  unlike  the  articulation  of  an 
Indian,  —  a  continuous  "  turn,  turn." 

The  third,  or  "  New  Connecticut  Way,"  called  the  "  King's 
Highway,"  "the  old  post  road,"  "the  stage  road,"  and  the 


52  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

great  road,  —  the  latter  name  still  clinging  to  it,  —  was 
partly  within  the  old  limits  of  Westborough,  passing  from 
the  centre  of  the  town  of  Marlborough,  through  North- 
borough  and  Shrewsbury,  to  Worcester.  It  is  said  that  this 
road  was  laid  out  by  the  cattle,  in  their  frequent  journeys  to 
and  from  the  Northborough  pastures ;  and  when  Major  John 
Pynchon,  in  1683,  examined  all  the  country  in  this  vicinity, 
to  find  the  easiest  and  best  route  for  a  new  Connecticut  way, 
he  could  find  none  better  than  that  chosen  by  the  instinct  of 
these  unreasoning  beasts. 

Major  Pynchon's  authority  for  locating  a  new  highway 
was  an  order  from  the  General  Court,  as  follows :  — 

"  Whereas  the  way  to  Kornecticut,  now  used  being 
very  hazardous  to  travellers  by  reason  of  one  deepe  river 
that  is  passed  fower  or  five  times  over,  which  may  be 
avoided,  it  is  referred  to  Major  Pynchon  to  order  ye  said 
way  to  be  laid  out  and  well-marked.  He  having  hired  two 
injins  to  guide  him  in  the  way  for  fifty  shillings,  it  is  ordered 
that  the  Treasurer  pay  them  the  same  in  country  pay 
towards  effecting  this  worke." 

In  1775  this  road  is  called,  in  one  of  the  almanacs  of  the 
day,  "  the  Western  toll  road."  The  following  taverns  were 
situated  on  its  way  in  this  vicinity:  In  Sudbury,  Howe's; 
in  Marlborough,  Howe's  and  Williams' ;  in  Northborough, 
Martin's ;  and  in  Shrewsbury,  Pease's.  Most  of  them  were 


OLD    ROADS    AND     TAVERNS.  53 

famous  hostelries  in  their  day.  The  innkeeper  was  usually 
not  only  one  of  the  most  prominent  citizens,  but  most  moral, 
upright,  and  worthy.  Every  innkeeper  had  to  be  licensed  by 
the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  and  must  bring  sufficient  testi- 
monials as  to  his  character  from  the  selectmen  and  others  in 
authority.  What  was  required  of  a  landlord  in  those  early  days 
is  shown  by  the  bond  of  Col.  Thomas  Howe,  who  kept  a  public 
house  in  Marlborough  in  1696.  It  requires  "  that  he  shall 
not  suffer  or  have  any  playing  at  cards,  dice,  tally,  bowls, 
nine  pins,  billiards,  or  any  other  unlawful  game  or  games  in 
his  said  house,  or  yard,  or  gardens,  or  backside,  nor  shall 
suffer  to  remain  in  his  house  any  person  or  persons,  not 
being  his  own  family,  on  Saturday  night  after  dark,  or  on 
the  Sabbath  days,  or  during  the  time  of  God's  Public  Worship  ; 
nor  shall  he  entertain  as  lodgers  in  his  house  any  strangers 
men  or  women,  above  the  space  of  forty-eight  hours,  but 
such  whose  names  and  surnames  he  shall  deliver  to  one  of 
the  selectmen  or  constable  of  the  town,  unless  they  shall  be 
such  as  he  very  well  knoweth,  and  will  ensure  for  his  or 
their  forthcoming  —  nor  shall  sell  any  wine  to  the  Indians  or 
negroes,  nor  suffer  any  children  or  servant,  or  other  person  to 
remain  in  his  house,  tippling  or  drinking  after  nine  o'clock 
in  the  night  —  nor  shall  buy  or  take  to  preserve  any  stolen 
goods,  nor  willingly  or  knowingly  harbor  in  his  house,  barn, 
stable,  or  otherwhere,  any  rogues,  vagabonds,  thieves,  sturdy 


54  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

beggars,  masterless  men  and  women,  or  other  notorious 
offenders  whatsoever  —  nor  shall  any  person  or  persons 
whatsoever,  sell  or  utter  any  wine,  beer,  ale,  cider,  rum, 
brandy,  or  other  liquors  by  defaulting,  or  by  color  of  his 
license  —  nor  shall  entertain  any  person  or  persons  to  whom 
he  shall  be  prohibited  by  law,  or  by  any  one  of  the  magis- 
trates of  the  county,  as  persons  of  jolly  conversation  or 
given  to  tippling." 

.Nearly  all  the  landlords  of  these  old  New  England   inns 
had  some  military  title,  won  in  the  militia  or  Revolution. 

About  a  dozen  miles  from  Westborough,  in  the  old  town 
of  Sudbury,  stands  Howe's  tavern,  which  has  achieved  a 
more  enduring  reputation  as  Longfellow's  Wayside  Inn. 
The  early  history  of  the  place  is  very  incomplete.  It  is  sup- 
posed that  a  small  house,  containing  the  present  kitchen, 
was  standing  in  King  Philip's  war.  In  1680  the  bar-room 
was  added.  It  grew  gradually  to  its  present  size,  the  last 
addition  being  made  seventy  years  ago,  when  there  was  a 
grand  dedication  ball,  Jerusha,  "  the  belle  of  Sudbury,"  — 
the  only  daughter  of  Adam  Howe,  then  proprietor,—  serving 
the  wine  and  the  pound-cake  which  she  hacl  made  with 
her  own  hands. 

Should  you  chance  to  ask  any  gentleman  who  was  a 
young  man  in  Sudbury  more  than  sixty  years  ago,  if  he 
knew  Jerusha  Howe,  his  eye  would  brighten  as  he  answers, 


OLD    ROADS    AND     TAVERNS, 


55 


"  Oh  yes,  I  knew  Jerusha.  She  was  a  handsome  girl,  tall 
and  slim,  and  bright  and  smart."  For  a  long  time  the 
little  pale-blue  satin  slippers,  with  satin  ribbon  plaited 
around  the  edges,  which  she  wore  at  this  ball,  were  kept 


in  the  house ;  and  all  the  pretty  gowns,  so  different  and 
so  much  better  than  those  of  most  of  the  country  girls, 
were  treasured  by  her  parents.  Longfellow  speaks  of  her 
spinet,  —  it  was  the  first  one  owned  in  Sudbury. 


5 6  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

It  is  supposed  that  the  "  Howe  tavern  of  Sudbury"  was 
first  opened  as  a  public  house  in  1700  or  1701,  but  the 
landlord's  license  is  dated  1716.  In  1746  Col.  Ezekiel 
Howe  took  his  father's  place  as  innkeeper,  and  put  up  the 
sign  which  gave  to  it  the  name  of  Red  Horse  tavern. 
Adam  and  Lyman  Howe  were  the  last  two  proprietors, 
and  then,  in  1860,  it  was  closed  to  the  public,  though 
still  owned  by  a  descendant  of  the  Howe  family. 

The  poet  and  the  artist  have  made  familiar  to  all  this  "  old 
Hobgoblin  Hall,"  with  its  gambrel  roof,  many  clustering 
out-buildings,  and  hollow,  gnarled  old  oaks.  The  follow- 
ing description  is  taken  from  "  The  Undiscovered  Country," 
by  W.  D.  Howells :  "  They  approached  the  storied  man- 
sion through  a  long  stretch  of  pine  and  sand,  by  a  road 
which  must  be  lonelier  now  than  it  was  a  hundred  years 
ago.  They  dismounted  under  the  elm  before  the  vast 
yellow  hostelry,  and  explored  its  rambling  chambers ;  they 
saw  Lafayette's  room,  and  Washington's  room,  the  attic 
for  the  slaves  and  common-folk,  the  quaint  ball-room,  the 
bar,  the  parlor  where  Longfellow  and  his  friends  used  to 
sit  before  the  fire  that  forever  warms  the  rhyme  celebrat- 
ing the  Wayside  Inn.  They  found  it  not  an  inn  any 
more,  though  it  appeared,  from  the  assent  of  the  tenant, 
that  they  might  command  an  elusive  hospitality  for  the 
night.  The  back  door  opened  upon  the  fading  memories 


OLD    ROADS    AND    TAVERNS. 


57 


of  a  garden,  and  the  damp  of  late  rain  struck  from  it  into 
the  sad  old  house." 

The  tap-room  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  in  the 
house,  with  its  quaint  bar  and  portcullis  raised  and  lowered 
at  will,  and  made  so  that  even  when  closed,  "drinks  could 
be  passed  beneath  it.  The  thick  oak  flooring  in  this  room 
was  worn  through,  and  within  a  few  years  has  been  re- 
placed. In  one  corner  of  the  room  is  a  steep  flight  of 
stairs  leading  into  a  chamber,  where  were  five  beds  for  the 
especial  accommodation  of  drovers.  The  only  two  rooms 
which  were  let  to  one  individual  at  a  time  are  those  now 
called  the  Lafayette  chambers,  because  once  the  great 
general  spent  a  night  in  them.  The  walls  of  these  rooms 
are  covered  with  the  oldest  style  of  wall-paper  in  the 
country,  —  "  the  blue-bell  pattern."  It  is  stamped  by 
hand  on  small  squares.  The  floor  was  polished  oak, 
decorated  with  blue  and  brown  flowers. 

There  are  few  relics  of  the  olden  days  to  be  seen  in 
the  house.  The  gorgeous  arms  still  remain  as  in  the  time 
when  Longfellow  wrote  :  — 

"  In  the  parlor  full  in  view 
His  coat  of  arms,  well  framed  and  glazed, 
Upon  the  wall  in  colors  blazed. 
He  beareth  gules  upon  his  shield, 
A  chevron  argent  in  the  field 


c;  8  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

With  three  wolves'  heads,  and  for  the  crest 

A  Wyvern  part-per-pale  addressed 

Upon  a  helmet  barred  ;   below 

The  scroll  reads,  '  By  the  name  of  Howe.'  " 

The  small  panes  of  glass  on  which  young  Molineux  left 
his  autograph  have  been  removed  from  the  windows  and 
framed.  The  lines,  in  scraggly  writing,  are  as  follows :  — 

"What  do  you  think? 
Here  is  good  drink,  — 
Perhaps  you  may  not  know  it ; 
If  not  in  haste,  do  stop  and  taste, 
You  merry  folks,  we'll  show  it. 

4iWM.  MOLINEUX,  Jr.,  Esq. 

"  2^.th  June,  1774-1  Boston." 

He  was  a  son  of  William  Molineux,  who  walked  beside 
the  kings'  troops  in  Boston  to  save  them  from  the  insults 
of  the  towns-people.  Major  Molineux  has  been  immor- 
talized by  Hawthorne,  in  the  sketch  bearing  his  name, 
printed  with  the  "  Snow  Image,  and  other  Twice-told  Tales." 

Up  in  the  attic  is  the  bunk  built  against  the  wall  where 
Porter,  usually  called  Port,  the  dwarf  slave,  used  to  sleep. 
The  only  means  of  reaching  this  is  up  a  steep  ladder. 
Porter  was  among  the  last  slaves  owned  in  Massachusetts. 
He  was  a  timid  little  fellow,  often  hiding  under  the  low 


OLD    ROADS    AND    TAVERNS. 


59 


shelf  in  the  hall-way  when  strangers  were  present.  When 
the  law  was  made  abolishing  slavery  in  the  State,  Colonel 
Ezekiel  Howe,  then  landlord,  told  Port  he  was  free.  "  No, 
no,  Massa,"  he  answered;  "  you  have  had  the  meat,  and 
now  you  may  have  the  bones." 

The  Howes  were  stanch  Tories,  and  during  the  Revolu- 
tion three  British  soldiers  were  hidden  for  some  days  in 
the  cellar.  The  house  was  suspected  and  watched,  but 
they  escaped  by  climbing  up  the  chimney  and  down  the 
roof  on  the  back.  The  tavern  was  very  popular  with  the 
soldiers  on  both  sides  ;  its  reputation  for  good  liquor  was 
equally  well  known  by  Patriot  and  Tory.  Every  one 
knew  Aunt  Margie  Carter,  the  famous  cook  at  the  inn 
during  the  Revolution.  She  was  a  single  lady,  smart  and 
capable,  a  true  New  England  girl,  and  fully  equal  to  taking 
the  whole  charge  when  Mrs.  Howe  had  gone  to  cook  for 
the  soldiers  stationed  in  the  barracks  farther  down  the  road. 
She  knew  when  to  bar  the  door  against  guests  who  threat- 
ened to  be  too  unruly,  and  was  not  easily  frightened  by  the 
violent  quarrelling,  that  sometimes  went  on  under  the  old 
roof.  She  carried  her  own  little  tin  cup  in  her  pocket, 
and  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  slipping  down  to  the 
"rum  cellar"  to  fill  it. 

The  Howes  owned  two  "  full  sets"  of  pewter  (one  dozen 
of  each  kind  of  article  forming  a  set),  —  platters,  plates,  and 


60  '       THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

porringers,  large  and  small.  The  cups  in  daily  use  were  of 
earthen-ware,  very  tiny,  scarcely  holding  two  large  spoon- 
fuls. For  very  special  guests,  the  solid  silver  cup,  which 
was  brought  over  from  England  by  the  first  Howe,  was 
set  upon  the  table.  In  later  days,  when  Lyman  Howe  was 
proprietor,  twice  a  year  the  pewter  was  scoured  and  put 
back  on  the  dresser  in  the  kitchen,  while  the  silver  and 
china  cups  were  kept  in  the  parlor  cupboard. 

At  the  Wayside  Inn,  Capt.  Timothy  Bigelow,  of  Worces- 
ter, rested  his  troops  on  the  way  to  Lexington,  April 
J9>  17/5,  when  the  news  had  just  come  that  the  war  had 
begun. 

The  house  probably  owes  its  good  fortune  in  surviving 
the  Indian  wars  to  the  fact  that  the  Indians  were  always 
friendly  to  the  Howes.  These  old  innkeepers  seem  to  have 
been  remarkably  politic,  and  had  the  rare  faculty  of  con- 
ciliating all  parties.  Many  little  presents  found  their  way 
to  the  Indians.  Among  the  most  acceptable  were  the 
gorgeous  feathers  from  the  peacocks  that  strutted  and 
screamed  on  the  lawn  in  front. 

It  is  only  a  fancy  of  the  poet  that  a  party  consisting  of 
Longfellow  and  his  friends :  the  student,  Henry  Wales,  of 
Boston ;  the  Sicilian,  Professor  Luigi  Monti,  of  Boston ;  the 
musician,  Ole  Bull,  of  Norway;  the  theologian,  Professor 
Treadwell ;  and  the  poet,  Thomas  William  Parsons, — 


OLD    ROADS    AND    TAVERNS.  6! 

"  From  the  far-oft"  noisy  town 
Had  to  the  Wayside  Inn  come  down 
To  rest  beneath  its  old  oak  trees." 

Many  of  them,  perhaps  all,  at  some  time  or  other,  visited  the 
place  with  which  their  names  are  to  be  always  associated. 
Parsons  some  years  later  published  a  volume  of  poems  called 
"  The  Shadow  of  Obelisk,"  containing  two  poems  on  the 
Wayside  Inn,  which  would  be  of  little  interest  had  not  the 
greater  poet  rendered  valuable  everything  connected  with 
the  old  house.  One  of  these  is  called  "  Guy  Fawkes'  Day 
at  the  Old  House  in  Sudbury,"  and  has  a  bit  of  pretty- 
description  of  the  old  dance-hall,  in  these  words :  — 

"But  the  scutcheon  is  faded  that  hangs  on  the  wall; 
And  the  hearth  looks  forlorn  in  the  desolate  hall; 
And  the  floor  that  has  bent  with  the  minuet's  tread, 
It  is  like  a  church  pavement, — the  dancers  are  dead." 

The  other  poem  is  called  "  The  Old  House  in  Sudbury, 
Twenty  Years  After,"  and  was  written  after  it  had  ceased 
to  be  an  inn. 

"Never  to  his  father's  hostel 

Comes  a  kinsman  or  a  guest; 
Midnight  calls  for  no  more  candles; 
House  and  landlord  both  have  rest." 

Passing    along  the  Connecticut    road  towards  Worcester, 


62  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

the  next  stopping-place  was  "  The  Howe  Tavern  of  Marl- 
borough,"  called  "  The  Black  Horse."  A  few  miles  farther 
along,  the  coaches  drew  up  at  Williams',  just  opposite 
Williams'  Pond.  There  is  still  a  tavern  on  the  old  location, 
as  there  has  been  since  the  days  of  Abraham  Williams,  two 
hundred  years  ago;  but  the  present  building  was  erected 
in  1822.  The  Duke  de  la  Rochefoucault  stopped  here, 
and  has  left  the  following  tribute  to  the  kindness  of  Captain 
Williams'  family,  which  gives  a  pleasant  picture  of  the 
home  qualities  of  New  England  inns  in  the  early  part  of 
this  century.  He  writes  :  — 

"  Although  excessively  ill,  I  was  sensible  of  my  dread- 
ful situation,  being  thus  laid  on  a  bed  of  sickness  among 
people  who  had  never  seen  me  before ;  and  this  idea  threw 
me  into  great  agitation  of  mind,  which  bordered  on  despair. 
But,  fortunately,  the  family  at  whose  house  I  had  stopped 
were  the  best  people  in  the  world.  Both  men  and  women 
took  as  much  care  of  me,  as  if  I  had  been  their  own 
child.  ...  I  must  repeat  it  once  more,  that  I  cannot  be- 
stow too  much  praise  on  the  kindness  of  this  excellent 
people.  Being  a  stranger,  utterly  unacquainted  with  them, 
sick,  and  appearing  in  the  garb  of  mediocrity  bordering  on 
indigence,  I  possessed  not  the  least  claim  on  the  hospitality 
of  this  respectable  family,  but  such  as  their  own  kindness  and 
humanity  could  suggest;  and  yet,  during  the  five  days 


OLD    ROADS    AND    TAVERNS.  63 

I  continued  in  their  house,  they  neglected  their  own 
business  to  nurse  me  with  the  tenderest  care  and  with 
unwearied  solicitude.  They  heightened  still  more  the 
generosity  of  their  conduct  by  making  up  their  account 
in  a  manner  so  extremely  reasonable,  that  three  times 
the  amount  would  not  have  been  too  much  for  the  trouble 
I  had  caused  them." 

In  1789  Washington  made  a  triumphal  tour  through  New 
England.  He  passed  down  the  great  road.  "  In  every  place 
through  which  he  passed,  the  inhabitants,  of  all  ranks,  ages, 
and  conditions,  testified  their  joy  at  the  opportunity  to 
behold  the  political  savior  of  their  country."  He  came  in 
his  own  carriage,  his  equipage  being  described  by  one  of  the 
spectators  as  follows  :  — 

"I.  A  gentleman  in  uniform  on  a  beautiful  dapple-gray 
horse. 

"  2.     Next,  two  aids  on  dapple-gray  horses,  in  uniform. 

"  3.  Bay  horses  with  two  negro  boys  as  riders,  the  horses 
attached  to  a  travelling-carriage,  in  which  sat  General  Wash- 
ington. 

"  4.  Behind  was  the  baggage -wagon,  with  two  bay  horses, 
containing  the  baggage."  (Reminiscences  of  Worcester, 
Wall,  p.  242.) 

He  reached  Worcester,  October  23,  1789,  breakfasted  there, 
then  went  on  by  the  house  of  General  Ward,  still  standing, 


64  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

a  short  distance  beyond  Pease  tavern.  He  had  superseded 
General  Ward  as  commander-in-chief,  and  the  old  general 
did  not  go  to  his  door  or  look  out  as  the  President  went  by. 
On  Sandy  hill,  —  the  first  hill  after  crossing  Stirrup  brook, 
in  NoFthborough,  just  beyond  the  house  of  William  Bartlett, 
—  Captain  Rice's  company  of  horse,  well  mounted  and 
uniformed,  were  waiting  to  escort  him  to  Marlborough. 
They  took  him  to  Williams'  tavern,  where  he  dined. 

The  last  road  associated  with  old  coaching  days  is  the 
turnpike,  built  in  1806  by  the  Worcester  Turnpike  Associa- 
tion. Four  stages  '  ran  daily  between  Worcester  and 
Roxbury;  the  fare  was  two  dollars.  The  coaches  were 
sometimes  crowded,  —  twelve  persons  being  inside,  and  five 
or  six  on  top.  They  rushed  up  and  down  the  hills,  the 
horses  often  wild  and  ugly,  and  reckless  as  the  men.  This 
road  was  laid  out  in  a  straight  line,  up  hill  and  down,  as  was 
the  way  of  turnpikes,  —  a  characteristic  which  perhaps  they 
owe  to  the  indomitable  will  of  their  founder,  Levi  Pease. 
It  happened  in  Westborough  to  go  by  the  door  of  the  old 
Forbush  tavern,  now  standing,  where  it  joins  Lyman  street. 
It  gave  a  new  impetus  to  the  old  inn,  which  was  much 
lessened  when  Mr.  Wesson  opened  the  large  tavern  at  Wes- 
sonville,  now  owned  and  occupied  by  the  Lyman  school. 

In  1812  the  soldiers  enlisted  for  the  war  stayed  for  a  while 
in  Lambert  Forbush's  barn,  —  Lambert  Forbush  at  that  time 


OLD    ROADS    AND    TAVERNS.  65 

keeping  the  Forbush  tavern.  When  the  roll  was  called,  one 
morning,  three  men  —  all  from  Hopkinton  —  were  missing. 
One  of  them  —  Ollan  Barrett,  the  grandson  of  Mr.  Park- 
man's  old  friend,  Mr.  Barrett,  the  minister  —  had  dug  out 
under  the  sills  of  the  barn,  and  escaped  to  the  swamp.  Here 
he  hid  himself  in  the  hollow  trunk  of  a  prostrate  cedar,  into 
which  he  backed,  and  then  filled  up  the  open  end.  He  was 
recaptured,  as  were  the  other  two,  named  Bixby,  and  sent 
to  Fort  Warren.  All  managed  to  escape  again,  Barrett 
returning  to  his  home  in  Hopkinton,  where  he  was  hidden  in 
the  attic  for  a  week  ;  while  one  of  the  Bixbys  —  Lovett  — 
was  again  recaptured,  and  sentenced  to  be  shot.  By  cross- 
ing a  river  at  "  the  seat  of  war,"  so  tempestuous  that  it  had 
not  been  thought  necessary  to  guard  it,  he  escaped  to  the 
Indians,  where  he  married  the  chieftain's  daughter.  She  was 
loaded  down  with  gold  and  ornaments,  which  her  reckless 
husband  succeeded  in  obtaining  from  her,  and  then  made  his 
escape  to  his  own  kindred. 

The  soldiers,  while  stationed  at  the  old  tavern,  amused 
themselves  by  fishing  for  Barker  Forbush's  geese,  —  he  lived 
in  a  house  by  the  pond,  —  and  succeeded  in  capturing  one 
old  gander  with  their  fish-hook  and  bait  of  corn.  The  owner 
went  to  the  barracks,  but  no  one  knew  aught  of  the  missing 
goose.  The  soldiers  marched  away  to  more  serious  work, 
over  the  newly  built  turnpike. 


66  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

Mr.  Wesson  kept  this  old  tavern  for  five  years  before 
building  the  one  now  known  by  his  name. 

For  a  few  years  Wessonville  rivalled  the  centre  of  the 
town ;  stores  were  opened  there,  a  thread  factory  started, 
houses  built,  the  old  parsonage  was  demolished  to  make  way 
for  a  new  house,  —  all  was  life  and  stir.  But  in  1834  the 
railroad  was  put  through ;  the  days  of  coaching  were  over, 
and  Wessonville  was  no  longer  the  busy  centre  it  had  been. 

It  was  at  Wesson's  tavern  where  Lafayette  stopped  for 
dinner,  when  he  went,  in  1825,  to  the  laying  of  the  corner- 
stone of  Bunker  Hill  monument.  About  forty  men  and  boys 
from  Westborough  were  gathered  around  the  door  to  see  the 
great  man  go  in.  He  is  remembered  by  one  of  the  boys 
who  saw  him  as  a  very  large  man,  slightly  lame,  and  carry- 
ing a  silver-headed  cane.  He  responded  simply  and  politely 
to  the  eager  welcomes  of  the  people . 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY. 

CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  MINISTER'S  FAMILY. 


67 


N  the  first  quarter  of  the  last  century  there  was 
erected  on  the  hill  where  now  stands  the  Lyman 
school  a  goodly  house  for  the  Westborough  min- 
ister. Ebenezer  Parkman  was  a  young  man,  fresh  from 
Harvard,  married  a  few  months  before  to  Mary  Champney, 
of  Boston.  They  were  both  from  good  families,  and  had 
been  brought  up  amidst  many  comforts  and  luxuries.  They 
were  to  be  not  only  the  directors  of  the  spiritual  and  moral 
growth  of  the  people,  but  their  social  head.  Their  house 
was  not  for  themselves  alone,  there  all  were  to  be  made 
welcome,  —  not  quite  as  equals,  to  be  sure,  but  they  were  to 
be  treated  with  a  dignity  so  mingled  with  gentleness  and  kind- 
ness that  they  did  not  notice  the  slight  condescension  which 
the  "  clark  "  and  "  madam,"  his  wife,  unconsciously  felt. 

The  parsonage  stood  where  the  farm-house  connected  with 
the  Lyman  school  now  stands.  When  it  was  torn  down,  in 
1830,  most  of  the  cellar-wall  was  rebuilt;  but  in  some  parts 
the  old  wall  was  used.  The  timbers  from  the  house  were 
thrown  in  the  yard,  where  they  lay  until  some  of  them  were 
used  in  repairing  the  shed  by  Mr.  William  White,  who  bought 


68  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

the  place,  in  1833.  By  going  under  the  shed  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  barnyard,  these  timbers  may  be  seen  and  recog- 
nized by  their  large  size,  their  material,  which  is  white 
oak,  the  way  they  are  mortised  together,  and  the  holes  where 
they  were  formerly  fastened  by  wooden  pins. 

For  a  hundred  years  this  house,  with  its  heavy  oak  beams 
and  solid  carpentry,  provided  comfortable  shelter  to  its 
owners.  It  was  built  in  the  prevalent  style  of  the  times,  but 
larger  and  grander  than  most  outside  of  the  large  towns. 

It  was  a  two-story  house,  with  two  large  stone  chimneys, 
and  a  lean-to  sloping  down  to  one  story  in  the  rear.  On  the 
front  were  nine  windows,  with  small  diamonds  of  glass  set  in 
leaden  sashes.  The  door-step  was  a  large  flat  stone.  Enter- 
ing the  hall,  the  dignity  of  the  place  impressed  the  visitor  as 
he  saw  the  heavy  block  stairs  turning  with  several  landings, 
like  those  of  a  modern  Queen  Anne  cottage,  and  the  oak- 
rail  six  inches  in  diameter,  cut  out  by  hands  in  the  Old  Coun- 
try into  clumsy  flutings.  On  either  side  was  a  door  leading 
into  the  parlor  and  living-room,  and  beyond  the  stairs  a 
long  narrow  entry  led  to  the  "meal-room"  in  the  "  linter." 
From  the  room  on  the  left  of  the  hall  there  was  a  door  open- 
ing into  a  small  entry,  from  which  one  door  led  out-of-doors, 
another  into  the  kitchen,  where  the  immense  fireplace  and 
large  brick  ovens  took  the  whole  of  one  side  of  the  room 
There  were  no  blinds  or  shutters,  and  probably  paper  cur- 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY. 


69 


tains  were  all  the  protection  they  had  from  the  sun.  The 
finish  was  oak,  the  walls  wainscoted,  and  covered  above  with 
a  thick,  dark  paper  brought  from  England.  Upstairs  the 
arrangement  of  rooms  was  similar  to  those  below,  only  over 
the  small  side  hall  was  the  minister's  study,  where  he  wrote 
his  sermons,  kept  his  "  diurna,"  and  meditated  on  the  uncer- 
tainties of  life  and  the  proneness  of  human  nature  to  deprav- 
ity and  sin. 

A  little  north-west  of  the  house  was  the  first  church,  situ- 
ated in  this  lonely  place  for  the  convenience  of  its  members 
coming  from  both  ends  of  Westborough,  the  two  ends  after- 
wards separating  into  two  towns,  one  keeping  the  old  name, 
and  the  other  becoming  Northborough. 

Packed  away  among  the  few  stately  gowns  of  Madam 
Parkman,  the  strong  household  linen,  the  black  robe  which 
the  minister  was  to  wear  in  the  pulpit,  and  the  few  printed 
books  which  in  those  days  formed  a  library,  were  two  small 
manuscript  volumes. 

One  of  these  was  a  little  book,  which,  after  the  manner  of 
those  early  college  students,  young  Parkman  had  filled  with 
rhymes  and  stories  of  more  or  less  merit,  written  by  himself 
at  Harvard,  and  ornamented  by  specimens  of  fancy  penman- 
ship and  sketches  of  birds,  flowers,  and  scrolls.  This  book 
is  now  in  possession  of  Mrs.  Nahum  Fisher. 

On  one  page  is  written,  "  Ebenezer  Parkman,  his  book, 
1717,"  —  the  year  that  Westborough  was  incorporated. 


70  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

One  verse  is  addressed  to  his  father :  — 

"I  am  but  young  in  Art  and  Cannot  Show 
Such  lines  as  I  unto  your  Goodness  owe, 
Yet  please  to  Smile  upon  this  small  endeavor 
I'll  strive  to  Mend  and  be  obedient  ever." 

Another,  illustrated  by  a  pen-and-ink  drawing  of  a 
grotesque  peacock,  probably  often  came  to  his  mind  as  he 
heard  his  own  gorgeous  birds  shrieking  on  the  grass  plats 
around  the  parsonage  :  — 

"  The  curious  colour'd  Birds  give  us  to  See 
They  borrow  not  their  beauteous  bravery 
But  Man  is  proud  of  what  is  not  his  own 
Tho'  to  his  Shame  his  borrow'd  Pride  be  known." 

Another  showed  more  skill,  and,  judging  from  the  title, 
was  more  favorably  regarded  by  the  author  than  most  in  the 
book.  It  is  called  "  Treason  against  King  George  Wittily 
Turned." 

"I  love  with  all  my  heart     The  Tory  Party  here 
The  Hanoverian  part     Most  hateful  doth  appear 
And  for  that  settlement     I  ever  have  denied 
My  Conscience  gives  Consent     To  be  on  James's  Side 
Most  righteous  is  ye  Cause     To  fight  for  such  a  thing 
To  fight  for  George's  laws     Will  England's  ruin  bring 
It  is  my  mind  and  heart     In  this  opinion  I 
Tho  none  will  take  my  part     Resolve  to  live  and  Dye." 

Mr.  Parkman  was  a  good  follower  of  King  George. 
The  second  volume,  three   and   one-half  by  six  inches,   is 
inscribed :  — 


1728. 

DIURNA 

OR 

An  Account 

OF 

The     Remarkable 

TRANSACTIONS 

OF 

Every  Day 

No.  7. 

being    a    continuation    of  a    Design   form'd 
in  the  year   1719-20.     Feb'y  19. 

Prov.   14.  8  Ps.  90.   12. 


72  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

In  this  book  he  jotted  down,  in  a  microscopic  hand, 
the  small  events  of  every-day  life,  thus  saving  for  us 
many  interesting  details  of  himself  and  others. 

He  begins  the  new  year  of  1724  with  the  purchase  of  a 
bear-skin  muff,  and  the  gift  of  a  peacock  and  peahen 
from  one  of  his  lady  parishioners. 

In  connection  with  his  house  he  owned  a  large  farm, 
on  which  he  spends  his  own  spare  moments,  advising 
and  assisting  his  hired  man,  Robert  Henry.  He  paid 
Robert  ^23  a  year. 

In  times  of  special  work,  when  the  corn  was  to  be  hoed 
or  crops  got  in,  he  hired  some  of  the  many  Indians,  who 
used  to  come  over  from  the  "praying-town"  of  Hassa- 
namisco  (now  Grafton),  to  work  for  small  pay.  There 
were  both  men  and  women,  —  sometimes  a  man  and  his 
wife,  —  and  they  would  stay  several  days,  and  find  some  place 
in  the  parsonage  or  barn  to  spend  the  nights.  July  18, 
1726,  he  says,  "  This  morn  Joshua  Misco  &  his  Squa 
hoed  my  corn."  Joshua  Misco  (according  to  the  General 
Court  Records,  vol.  12)  was,  in  1725,  one  of  the  thirty- two 
Indian  proprietors  of  Hassanamisco ;  in  1728  he  was  one 
of  the  eight  who  signed  the  deed  conveying  the  town  to  the 
white  purchasers. 

Mr.  Parkman  owned  a  mare,  which  he  rode  when  visit- 
ing his  parishioners,  and  let  at  a  reasonable  rate  to  his  less 
fortunate  neighbors. 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY.  73 

In  the  house  Silence  Bartlett  was  "  help,"  and  received  as 
wages  ,£8  a  year.  As  one  after  another  a  new  baby  was 
added  to  the  household  cares,  her  hands  and  those  of  her 
successor,  Hannah  Puddison,  were  too  full,  and  Mr.  Park- 
man  decided  to  spend  part  of  his  salary  in  purchasing  a 
slave  "  boy,"  whose  work  was  to  lie  wholly  in  the  house 
and  in  personal  attendance  on  the  family.  He  bought  one 
of  his  father's  servants,  and  thus  writes  in  his  diary: 
"Aug.  8,  1728,  I  entered  into  obligation  to  my  father 
for  the  boy  (Negro)  Barrow  —  my  father  gave  me  $£  I.  p'd. 
him  $£  —  and  gave  a  promissory  note  to  pay  66£ — the 
whole  making  74^,  which  was  the  price  of  him ;  "  and  the 
next  day :  "  I  rode  to  Cambridge.  Barrow  alias  Maro 
running  on  foot." 

But  Maro's  life  at  the  parsonage  was  destined  to  be  short, 
and  a  year  later  Mr.  Parkman  writes,  under  date  of  Decem- 
ber 5,  1729,  after  mentioning  the  various  afflictions  which 
he  was  then  undergoing:  "But  especially  Maro  at  Point 
of  Death."  And  again,  December  6:  "Dark  as  it  has 
been  with  us,  it  became  much  Darker  about  yc  Sun 
Setting.  The  Sun  of  MARO'S  life  Sat.  The  first  Death 
in  my  family  !  God,  enable  me  to  see  thy  Sovereign  mind 
and  comport  with  his  holy  Will.  As  my  servant  is  sum- 
moned to  go  before,  so  God  only  knows  whether  his  Mas- 
ter is  not  shortly  to.  follow  after,  and  so  y°  former  to  prove 
as  a  Harbinger  to  the  latter." 


74  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

Sometimes  he  records  a  gift  from  his  parishioners,  as 
on  May  3,  1724,  when,  in  making  his  pastoral  calls,  he 
says  he  "  called  at  several  places  and  at  Mr.  Josiah  Newtons. 
These  last  gave  me  a  pair  of  shoes  for  myself  and  a  pair 
for  my  lad." 

Presents  of  food  were  not  at  all  unusual,  —  a  "handsome 
cheese  "  being  the  most  common  expression  of  good-will. 
In  1778,  he  says,  "  At  eve  came  Mr.  Elisha  Forbes  &  his 
wife  to  visit  us,  and  brought  an  extraordinary  present,  31 
pounds  of  Meat,  Beef,  and  Pork  &  a  Cheese  of  12  pounds, 
and  supped  with  us.  Mr.  Forbes  also  offered  that  I  would 
take  one  of  ye  Boston  Newspapers,  he  wd  pay  for  a  year. 
May  God  reward  his  Benevolence  &  Generosity ! " 

Just  a  year  later,  to  a  day,  December  4,  1779,  he  writes: 
"  Breck  returns  from  Boston  .  .  .  He  brings  me  a 
present  from  my  son  Sam'l  a  valuable  silk  handkerchief 
of  fifty  Dollars  price,  much  wanted." 

In  another  manuscript  volume  left  by  Mr.  Parkman,  and 
rarely  written  in,  except  on  his  birthdays,  he  has  a  list  of 
special  mercies,  drawn  up  April  15,  1729!  This  he  calls 
"  Divine  Benignity  in  Providence." 

A  few  of  them,  with  the  numbers  he  affixed  to  them,  are 
as  follows :  — 

"  12.  The  Distinguishing  Honours  and  Gracious  Presence 
of  God  at  my  ordination  Oct.  28  in  ye  same  year  1724." 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY.  75 

"  17.  My  wife's  Restoration  and  Recovery  from  her  great 
pains  and  illness  July  1726  under  ye  care  of  Rev.  Mr.  Barrett 
&  Mrs.  Whitcomb.  This  is  to  be  remembered  as  a  special 
appearance  of  God  for  us." 

"21.  Still  greater  and  more  remarkable  Salvation  in  the 
GREAT  EARTHQUAKE  and  I  would  more  special  notice  be 
taken  of  it  because  I  would  lay  those  Threatenings  of  Divine 
Providence  with  the  awakening  of  his  word  publickly  deliv- 
ered ye  day  before :  which  compleating  the  third  year  since 
gathering  our  church  and  my  own  ordination  I  preached  on 
Luk.  13.  7."  This  text  is,  "Then  said  he  unto  the  dresser 
of  his  vineyard,  Behold,  these  three  years  I  come  seeking 
fruit  on  this  fig-tree,  and  find  none:  cut  it  down;  why  cum- 
bereth  it  the  ground?" 

"  26.  I  would  put  into  this  account  the  Fav1'  of  my  Li- 
brary so  much  larger  than  fn  my  circumstances  I  might  have 
expected  it  to  be.  Tho'  I  would  humbly  wait  for  the  Divine 
Goodness  in  further  additions  to  it  still ;  but  beg  for  Grace 
to  improve  it  to  the  Glory  of  God." 

"27.  I  would  reckon  also  the  comfort  pour'd  in  from  my 
Farm." 

"31.  Aug.  18,  1729.  The  goodness  of  God  was  mani- 
fested to  me  and  to  my  little  dauter  Mary  in  seeing  her  when 
she  had  sadly  wandered  away  and  lost  in  ye  swamp  and  di- 
recting a  young  man  David  Maynard  jr.  to  her  Deliverance." 


76 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


In  the  same  volume  is  recorded  a  "  special  resolution." 

"  To  Return  or  pay  for  the  books  I  have  sometime  ago 
borrowed  and  negligently  and  unjustly  retained  for  some 
years  from  ye  owners  ytf:  at  those  times  purposing  to 
buy  ym,  but  to  this  Day  have  omitted  it,  by  which  I  have 
involved  myself  in  the  Guilt  of  Unrighteousness." 

After  nearly  twelve  years  of  married  life,  Mrs.  Parkman 
died,  leaving  five  small  children,  Mary,  the  eldest,  being  but 
eleven. 

Notwithstanding  his  sincere  grief  for  his  wife,  Mr.  Park- 
man realized  that  his  children  needed  a  mother,  his  parish  a 
minister's  wife,  and  wre  find  him  in  a  little  more  than  a  year 
writing  in  his  journal :  — 

"  February  17,  1737. 

"  N.B.  Ye  Discovery  of  my  Inclinations  to  Capt.  Sharp 
and  to  Mm.  by  Yr  urgent  persuasion  I  tarryd  and  lodg'd  there 
—  N.B.  Mrs.  Susanna  Sharp." 

A  few  weeks  later  he  again  "  takes  notice  "  of  Mistress 
Susanna  as  follows  :  — 

"  March  3.  I  proceeded  to  Capt.  Sharp's,  by  Capt. 
Sharp's  strong  Solicitations  I  tarried  all  night.  N.B.  Mrs. 
Susan  not  very  willing  to  think  of  going  so  far  into  the  Coun- 
try as  Westb.,  &c.  &c.  &c." 

But  the  loss  of  his  first  wife  is  freshly  brought  to  his  mind 
a  few  days  later,  by  his  sister  Lydia,  who  is  going  to  West- 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY. 


77 


borough  with  him,  and  tells  him  that  she  shall  carry  with  her 
"  some  other  colour'd  cloth  y"  her  black,"  and  suggests,  as 
he  writes  :  — 

"  March  5  our  putting  off  our  Mourning,  it  (by  Degrees) 
moved  me  very  much  and  my  passions  flow'd  almost  beyond 
control  —  till  I  was  obliged  to  retire  away.  —  Every  matter 
was  most  exceeding  sorrowf.  to  me." 

Reaching  the  conclusion  soon  after,  that  arguments  or  en- 
treaties would  have  no  avail  with  Susanna  Sharp,  he  turns  his 
horse's  head  toward  Marlborough,  where  he  seems  previously 
to  have  had  many  conversations  with  Mistress  Hannah 
Breck,  daughter  of  his  old  friend,  the  Rev.  Robert.  He 
writes :  — 

"March  19,  1736/7.  A.M.  to  Dr.  Gott's,  but  a  short 
space  with  Mrs.  Hannah.  At  my  request  she  had  (she 
assured  me)  burnt  my  letters,  poems  &c. 

"  March  25.     I  spent  the  afternoon  at  Dr.  Gott's. 

Mr.    Hovey    there  with    a   Bass  Viol     N.B.     Mrs.    H h 

B k  at  ye  Drs.  Still.     Our  Convers11  of  a  piece  wth  w1  it 

used  to  be.  I  mark  her  admirable  Conduct  her  Prudence  & 
wisdom,  her  good  manners  and  her  distinguishing  Respect- 
fullness  to  me  which  accompany  her  Denyals. 

"  April.  I.     At  Eve  I  was  at  Dr.  Gott's,     Mrs.  H h  was 

thought  to  be  gone  up  to  Mr.  Week's  or  Capt.  Williams  with 
Design  to  lodge  there,  but  she  returned  to  ye  Doctr.  and  she 


78  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

gave  me  her  Company  till  it  was  very  late.  Her  conversa- 
tion was  very  friendly  and  with  divers  Expressions  of  Singu- 
lar and  peculiar  Regard.  Memordm.  Oscul.  :  But  she  cannot 
yield  to  being  a  step-mother.  —  I  lodg'd  there  and  with  gr't 
satisfaction  and  composure." 

Unfortunately,  some  pages  of  the  Journal  are  lost,  and  we 
only  know  that,  in  the  September  following,  Mistress  Han- 
nah had  become  a  step-mother  to  the  five  Parkman  children. 
She  had  eleven  children,  four  of  them  being  born  in  the  old 
parsonage,  the  rest  in  the  new.  She  outlived  Mr.  Parkman, 
and  was  honored  and  loved  by  his  people.  With  all  his 
affection  for  her,  he  never  forgot  the  wife  of  his  early 
days.  Jan.  29,  1779,  he  writes:  "This  day  is  memora- 
ble for  ye  sorrows  I  was  plunged  into  in  ye  year  36  (43 
years  since)  wn  ye  Partner  of  my  Joys  and  Divider  and 
Sharer  of  my  Griefs  was  taken  away.  I  remember  still  ye 
wormwood  and  ye  Gall — my  soul  is  yet  humbled  within  me. 
May  G.  grant  me  true  and  thorow  Humiliation  !  " 

The  new  parsonage,  where  Mr.  Parkman  spent  the  last 
half  of  his  life,  is  the  house  standing  just  beyond  the  High- 
street  school-house.  This  was  built  in  1748,  on  the  place 
where  the  late  Dr.  Curtis'  house  stands,  on  the  corner  of  East 
Main  and  High  streets.  It  has  been  very  much  altered  and 
modernized  since  then.  Mr.  Parkman  bought  a  large  farm 
adjoining  the  new  church-lands  on  one  side,  and  stretching 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY.  79 

on  both  sides  of  the  road  down  East  Main  street.  He  built  a 
small,  low  house  for  his  farmer,  which  still  stands,  shaded  by 
lilac  bushes,  and  overtopped  by  a  disproportionately  high 
elm.  It  is  nearly  opposite  the  house  of  Rev.  E.  W.  Clark. 

Mr.  Parkman,  in  1779,  speaks  of  a  man's  coming  to  his 
farm  with  "  Lelock  Trees,"  —  perhaps  the  ancestors  of  those 
still  clustering  around  the  old  farm-house. 

From  this  parsonage  the  little  Mary  of  his  Journal  was 
married  to  Rev.  Eli  Forbes.  A  list  of  the  articles  in  her 
wedding  outfit  is  still  preserved  in  her  father's  handwriting. 
It  is  written  on  loose  sheets  of  paper,  pinned  together 
with  an  old  hand-made  pin,  its  round  head  formed  of  a 
tight  coil  of  the  wire.  It  is  as  follows :  — 

-To 

My  Dauter  Molly,  Sundrys  viz :  — 

\  Doz.  A-back  black  Chairs         .          .          .          .         4.  10.  o 
\  Doz.  Table  back  colourd  Do.  .          .          .          .          9.     o.  o 
i  Black  arm  chair  &  \  Doz.  plain  3  back    .          .          4.  17. 
I  Feather  Bed  new  Tick     .....       40.    o.  o 

1  Feather  Bed  &c  pidgeon  Feathers  12  > 
and  ye  Tick  new  home  spun  5 

2  Bedsteads  and  Beds  and  Lines. 

2  pair  Bed  Blanketts  .          .          .  .  .          .        15.  6.  o 

I  Bed  Quilt,  partly  old  —  part  New  . 

~        ,.j  c  Without  the  spinning  .  .         .       12.  o.  o 

I  Ditto  meaner  .  10.  o.  O 


So  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

Three  pair  of  sheets — 2  of  cotton  I  of  tow  .  26.  o.  o 

and  pillow  cases      .          .          .  .  .  .  3.  4.  o 

\  Doz  large  London  Plates  M.  C.  .  .  .  6.  o.  o 

4  Dishes     .          .         .         .         .  .  .  .  6.  o.  o 

2  Brass  Skillets,  old    .          .          .  .  .  .  i.  10.  o 

i  Iron  pot           .          .          .          .  .  .  .  1.15.0 

i  Iron  kettle       .          .          .          .  .  .  .  i.  12.  o 

Ironing  box  and  heater       .          .  .  .  .  i.  o.  o 

Gridiron     .          .          .          .          .  .  .  .  16.  o 

Frying  pans        .          .          .          .  .  .  .  2.  o.  o 

i  Spit  and  winch         .          .          .  .  .  .  2.  o.  o 

i  Dripping  Pan            .          .          .  .  .  .  16,  o 

i  oval  Table        .          .          .          .  .                 '  .  5.  o.  o 

i  Kitchen  Table           .          .          .  .  .  .  i.  10.  o 

A  Chest  with  one  Drawer   .          .  .  .  .  i.  10.  o 

1  Large  Looking  glass        .          .  .  .  20.  o.  o 

Kneeding  Trough       .          .          .  .  .  .  i.  5.0 

Washing  Tubb  .          .          .          .  .  .  .  o.  16.  o 

2  Pails        .          .         .         .         .  .  .  .  o.  12.  o 

i  Beer  Tunnell  .         .         .  .  .  .  o.  10.  o 

1  Lignum  Vitae  Mortar       .          .  .  .  .  i.  o.  o 

2  Wooden  Trays         .          .          .  .  .  .  o.  18. 

i  Great  Wheel i.  10.  o 

i  Foot  Wheel  2.  o.  o 


200.    9.  o 


THE    MINISTER'S  FAMILY.  8 1 

From  Mr.  Baton.  old  Tenr. 

I  pair  chamber  Tongs  .  .  .          .  .  I.  I. 

I  Do.   Fire  shovels     .  .  .  .          .  .  i.  o.  o 

I  Kitchen  Fire  Slice  (  ?)  .  .  ....  .  I.  16.  o 

I  pair  Kitchen  Tongs  .  .  .          .  .  i. 

i  pair  large  Andirons  .  .  .          .  .  7.  4.  o 

i  Chaffing  Dish           .  .  .  .          .  .  2.  o.  o 

12  Skewers  o.  12.  o 


14.  13.  o 


\      -  2.     5.0 


From  Cambridge.     Mr.  Champneys.  Sept.  30 
i  Sett  of  Chaina  Tea  Dishes 

&  Saucers 

Two  Small  Bowls        ......  6.  o 

1  Glass  Cream  pott     .          .          .          .          .          .  o.  7.  o 

2  Wine  Glasses  .          .          .          .          .          .          .  o.  7.  o 

2  Pint  Bowls       .          .          .          .          .          .          .  o.  10.  o 

1  Quart  Bowl     .          .         .         .         .          .         .  o.  9.  o 

2  Beekers  .          .          .          .          .          .          .          .  o.  7.  o 

i  Mustard  pott  .          .          .         .         .         .         .  o.  4.  o 

i  Fan o.  15.  o 

i  Butter  Boat     .          .         .         .         .         .         .  o.  4.  o 

6  Earthen  plates         .          .         .         .          .         .  2.  o.  o 

» 

7.  14.  o 


82  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

From  Roxbury.     Mrs.  Stoddard's.  Sept.  30 

\2\  yds  |  Garlix  fa)  i/s £8.  10.  o 

II  yds  of  Bed  Tick  fa)  i8s            .          .          .          .  9.  18.  O 

I  Table  Cloth  3  yds  (a)  28s 4.    4.  o 

4  yds  Red  Quality  <a)  i$d    .                              .          .  O.     5.  o 

22.    I/.  O 

At  Newtown.      Mrs.  Comorins.  Aug.  I 
To  a  silver  Ribband 
To  I  Grater.      I  Tin  dipper 

At  Waltham.     Mr.  Goodly.  Aug.  I 

I  pair  of  White  Calamco  Shooes           .          .  .          2.     5.  o 

1  lawn  fa)  6£ 15.  O 

£3-  o.  o 

To  Mollv  at  ye  Tinmans  in  Boston  as  appears  ) 

>     100.    o.  o 
by  Brr  Saml  I  adt.  in  old  Tenr  5 

At  Mr.  Sergeants  at  Loiwster    ) 

>  28.    o.  o 

for  chest  of  Drawers  &  Table  ) 

To  Molly  out  of  ye  House  brot  over 

To  2  pairs  of  Cotton  and  Linnen  Sheets   (worn) 

To  J\  yds  Garlix  6D  143 5.5.0 

Memord.      Delivd  to  my  Dauter  Molly  P.  West- 

boro  May  1749  on  the  way  going  to  Boston     .     £38.     4.  o 
Cash  delivd  to  Dauter  Molly 


12.      O.  O 

at  another  time  (ace.  to  my  Remembrce 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY.  83 

At  another  time.     N.B.     It  was  a  piece  of  Gold 

borrowed  of  Esq  Baker.          .          .          .          .        8.     5.  o 
Cash  p'd  for  Molly  to  her  Brr  Eben    .          .          .       4.  10.  o  " 

This  does  not  include  any  of  Molly's  dresses.  The  whole 
amounts  to  a  little  more  than  four  hundred  and  forty-four 
pounds. 

One  of  the  younger  children,  Anna  Sophia,  was  born 
in  this  new  parsonage,  1755.  She  married  Elijah  Brigham, 
afterwards  Judge  Brigham,  one  of  Westborough's  most 
prominent  citizens,  and  a  well-known  member  of  Congress. 
She,  as  well  as  some  of  her  brothers  and  sisters,  kept  a 
journal,  which  is  still  in  existence,  and  throws  light  on  the 
daily  life  of  a  minister's  daughter  a  hundred  years  ago. 

It  begins :  — 

"  November  1777 

'•"  2Oth.  'Tis  Thanksgiving  Day.  I  do  not  go  to  meeting. 
Dr.  Stiles  preaches.  I  hear  very  finely  indeed.  Susa  poorly 
tarry  at  home  with  me.  At  evening  I  receive  a  letter  from 
Sister  Gushing  which  I  am  very  glad  of  as  I  have  received 
no  letter  from  her  since  Brother  Gushing  was  here.  Also 
Doctor  Hawes  come  to  spend  the  evening  with  us." 

Dr.  Hawes  at  this  time  was  thirty-eight  years  old,  in  the 
height  of  his  professional  and  political  career. 

"  22d.    Dr.   Stiles  Set  out  his  journey  to  Portsmouth  this 


84 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


morning.  Am  making  shirt  for  James  Hicks  —  write  a 
letter  to  Sister  Gushing  and  send  by  Stephen  Maynard.  Do 
sundry  things,  p.m.  Alter  a  cloke  for  Nabby  Wood.  Mas- 
ter Nathaniel  Fosdic  here  on  his  way  to  Boston  -  -  'tis  warm 
weather. 

"  We  wash.  I  do  sundries  in  the  Kitchen.  Rev.  Mr. 
Sherman  of  Connecticut  here  and  dined  and  Lodged  here, 
p.m.  I  sew  on  Jemmy's  shirt.  Breck  is  papering  the  old  shop." 

This  ''old  shop"  was  the  first  store  in  Westborough,  and 
now  is  a  dwelling-house,  on  the  east  side  of  South  street, 
—  long,  low,  and  luxuriantly  surrounded  by  flowers.  It  is 
owned  by  Patrick  Cronican.  At  the  time  this  journal  was 
written,  it  was  used  as  a  store  and  dwelling-house  by  her 
brother  Breck,  who,  a  few  months  previously,  had'  been 
married  to  Susanna  Brigham,  the  "  Susa "  of  the  journal. 
She  is  remembered  as  a  stately,  gracious  lady,  who  was 
always  kind  and  generous  to  those  needing  her  help  or 
sympathy. 

"November  1777.  26.  I  do  a  variety  of  things.  Father 
visits  Mr.  Stone  of  Southboro'.  Mother  at  Capt.  Maynard's 
finds  them  sick  with  the  measles  p.m.  I  iron  Crosby  cleans 
the  Garretts  Mrs.  Brigham  from  Northborough  here  to  see 
Susa  I  drink  Tea  at  the  Shop. 

"  27th.  Crosby  leaves  us  for  good  and  all  goes  with  John 
Harrington  to  Boston.  I  am  Busy  about  many  things. 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY.  §5 

Mother  visits  Mrs.  Baker  and  Carries  home  a  Shirt  I  have 
been  making  for  her  and  did  agree  with  Mrs.  Baker  for 
I2ibs  pjax>  j  Spin  Thread.  Mrs.  Lamson  here  and  spend 
the  evening. 

"December,  i.  We  wash.  Miss  Eunice  Jones  here  to 
make  some  cloth  for  James  Hicks.  Mrs.  Brigham  here. 
Breck  went  away  to  Hartford  in  the  evening.  I  ironed 
at  the  shop,  'tis  very  cold  weather.  . 

"  Dec.  5.  After  Breakfast  Mr.  Bradshaw  Presented  me  with 
a  Book  Containing  Twenty  of  Dr.  Eliot's  Sermons,  for  which 
I  am  very  thankful. 

"  Thurs.  ii.  .  .  .  My  mother  informs  me  that  in  my 
absence  Brother  Moore  had  been  here  and  brought  me  a 
Black  Satten  Cloke  that  was  my  Sisters,  also  an  under  Pet- 
ticoat and  some  of  Sukey's  knit  Lace  for  a  tucker.  .  .  .  ' 

This'  sister  had  lately  died. 

''15.  I  wash  'tis  very  cold  weather  p.m.  Master  Sam1 
Brigham  here  drink  Tea  and  spend  the  evening  here. 
Brought  me  a  letter  from  Mr.  Elijah  Brigham  at  Dartmouth 
college,  occasioned  by  the  Death  of  my  Sister  Hannah.  I 
spend  the  Evening  Knitting  upon  a  pair  of  Stocken  for 
myself." 

This  Mr.  Elijah  Brigham  was  afterwards  Judge  Brigham, 
and  a  few  years  after  this  was  written,  Miss  Anna  Sophia 
became  his  wife. 


86  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

"%Wed.  24.  I  knit  at  the  Shop.  .  .  .  p.m.  Breck 
returned  from  Boston.  I  drink  tea  at  the  shop  with  my 
Brother  and  Sister  Also  Dr.  Hawes  there  Spend  the  evening 
at  home  knitting  still  on  my  own  stockens. 

"  Dec.  31.  I  card  Wool  for  Molly  to  spin  and  knit  some. 
Mother  is  knitting  Gloves  for  Patty  Miller  —  'tis  Extrem 
cold  weather  —  very  good  sleighing. 

"  Jan'y  20.  I  spin  p.m.  go  to  Singing  School  at  evening 
Mr.  E.  B.  (Elijah  Brigham)  here  and  spend  the  evening  he 
is  just  come  home  from  College. 

"21.  I  spin.  Mr.  B.  goes  away     p.m.  go  to  school.     .     .     . 

"25.  I  go  to  meeting  at  evening  Mr.  B.  here  spend  even- 
ing. 

"'30.  I  sew  in  the  forenoon  —  p.m.  go  to  school  Mr. 
E.  B.  at  school  came  home  with  me  and  spend  the  evening 
here 

"31.  I  go  to  School  all  day.  Mr.  B  goes  away  in  the 
morning.  I  gave  him  my  Singing  Book  to  Pric  some  tunes 
into  it,  while  I  was  gone  to  School. 

"  Feb'y  8,  1778  I  go  to  meeting.  Set  in  the  gallery  with 
the  Singers.  Mr.  Badcock  and  Mr.  Bradshaw  here  after 
meeting  and  Sing  in  the  Evening. 

"  9.  I  am  very  poorly  Mollie  washed.  I  go  in  the  sleigh 
to  School.  At  evening  Mr.  Bradshaw  here  to  Lodge.  I 
rec'd  a  letter  from  Mr.  Brigham. 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY.  87 

"II.  I  spin  p.m.  this  day  Mr.  Badcock  finish  his  school 
and  we  settled  with  him.  My  part  of  School  expenses  is 
I8/IO." 

The  first  mention  of  this  singing-school  was  January  12, 
and  nearly  every  day  since  then  she  has  attended  it  a  part 
or  the  whole  of  the  day.  Mr.  Badcock,  the  teacher,  was 
from  Wrentham,  the  place  where  Dr.  Hawes  formerly 
lived. 

"  14.    We  scour  our  pewter. 

"  1 6.  .  .  .  Mr.  B.  here,  spent  the  evening,  gives  an 
invitation  to  take  a  ride  to  Concord  in  company  with  Master 
Holland.  Mrs.  Hancock  of  Northboro'. 

"  17.  Mr.  B  and  Mr.  Holland  came  in  the  morning  with 
the  sleigh.  I  go  with  them  to  Northboro',  add  Mrs.  Han- 
cock to  the  company,  then  go  on  our  way  to  Concord,  dine 
at  Loreing  Tavern,  arrive  at  Bror.  Samuel  at  Sun  sett,  find 
that  brother  and  sister  is  gone  to  Newbury.  Mr.  &  Mrs. 
H.  goes  to  Bilrickca.  Mr.  B.  visit  Mr.  Kellogg  I  visit  Dr. 
Minot's  lady,  spend  p.m  with  Sam11,  with  Mr.  B  and 
evening. 

"  20.  We  sett  out  on  our  way  to  Northboro',  Breck  being 
Joind  to  our  Company.  We  dine  at  Sawing  Tavern  at  Marl- 
boro' drink  coffee  at  Briggs,  arrive  at  Westboro'  at  7  o'clock 
find  Miss  Patty  Fish  here.  Mr.  B.  goes  away  to  Capt. 
Edmund  Brigham's  with  the  sleigh,  does  not  spend  the 


88  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

evening  here.  I  am  much  fatigued.  .  .  .  26.  Susa  and 
I  comb  flax  all  day.  'tis  very  rainy  dull  weather. 

"  April  23.      I  am  bucking  yarn  for  Elias'  shirts. 

"  24.     Bucking  yet. 

"  27.  Wash  p.  m.  go  to  Northboro'  to  get  Elias'  shirts  wove, 
to  the  hospital  to  see  Winslow  Brigham,  Billy  Spring  and 
several  others  that  have  the  small  Pox.  Stop  at  Coll.  Brig- 
ham's.  Mr.  Brigham  was  my  company  home.  Spend  the 
evening  in  company. 

"  29.     I  spin  thread  to  make  me  a  pair  of  gloves.    .     .     .' 

"May  31.  I  spend  the  forenoon  mending  worsted 
mitts. 

"June   19.      I  help  Sister    Gushing  get  her  quilt    to   the 

frame. 

*> 

"  June  24.  Sister  Gushing  and  I  set  out  in  a  chaise  for 
Boston.  Breck  is  our  company  'tis  a  nightly  eclipse  of  the 
sun — We  dine  at  Reeves  Tavern  in  Sudbury  —  ride  from 
there  to  Cambridge,  and  then  to  Boston.  Arrived  at  Brother 
Sam11  6  o'clock. 

"June  27.  We  ride  up  to  Coll.  Howe  of  Marlboro  Break- 
fast. Arrive  home  about  noon." 

This  was  probably  at  Col.  Cyprian  Howe's,  who  kept  the 
"  Howe  tavern  "  of  Marlborough,  on  the  Boston  road.  Later 
it  has  been  known  as  the  Morse-Wilson  place.  There  are 
now  no  buildings  on  the  place.  The  Sawin  tavern,  where  she 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY. 


89 


stopped  a  few  months  before,  was  kept  by  Munning  Sawin, 
and  at  that  time  there  was  a  bacchanalian  ballad  with,  says 
the  Marlborough  historian,  "  the  inspiring  chorus  — 

"  '  Uncle  Cjp  makes  the  flip, 

And  Munning  makes  the  toddy,  O !  ' ' 

The  journal  ends  abruptly,  the  last  entry  being  July  6, 
1778. 

"  I  sew  p.m.  Mr.  Maynard  tarrys  all  night.  I  spend  an 
hour  in  company  with  him." 

Not  long  after  this  Mr.  Parkman  writes  in  his  journal :  — 

"April  19,  1779.  Rectl  a  letter  from  Elijah  Brigham,  A.B., 
respectg  Sophy" 

Just  a  year  later,  one  April  afternoon,  Colonel  Brigham 
came  over  from  Northborough  "  upon  an  important  errand 
in  behalf  of  his  son  Elijah,  with  regard  to  Sophy,"  and 
Mr.  Parkman  adds,  "  w°  I  gave  my  consent  to." 

Sept.  21,  1780,  they  were  married.  Only  the  day  before 
the  wedding  Mr.  Parkman  was  surprised  by  Mr.  Brigham's 
asking  him  "whether  it  would  suit  me  to  have  the  marriage 
of  my  Dauter  to  him  to  be  to-morrow.  I  asked  him  where 
he  intended  to  live?  He  reply'd,  '  Here,  if  I  sh'd  like  it.'  I 
ans.  that  I  was  willing  to  do  wl  was  in  my  power  for  him. 
He  acquaint*1  me  with  his  desire  to  wait  on  Squire  Baker  & 
his  Lady  with  his  Invitat1".  to  ye  Wedding  also  ye  two  eldest 


9o 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


Dauters.     To  wc  I  consented.     My  Dautr  Gushing  rode  to 
Capt.  Maynard's  to  invite  him  and  his  Wife." 

TJie  next  day,  notwithstanding  Mrs.  Parkman's  illness, 
which  prevented  her  being  present  at  her  daughter's  mar- 
riage, the  wedding  came  off. 

"  To  God  be  praise  and  Glory !  "  writes  Mr.  Parkman. 

Three  years  later  her  brother  Ebenezer  thus  records 
Sophy's  death  in  his  journal :  — 

"  Nov.  26,  1783,  Dear  Sister  Brigham  departed  this  life 
in  Full  hopes  of  a  glorious  Resurrection  to  eternal  Life  ! 
Alas  !  " 

Occasionally  Mr.  Parkman  indulged  in  some  little 
"  frolick,"  as  he  terms  his  jaunts  into  neighboring  towns. 
One  of  these  was  immediately  after  receiving  his  call  to 
become  the  pastor  here,  and  is  thus  described  in  his 
journal :  — 

"  Jany  8,  1724."  (He  was  staying  at  Mr.  Swift's,  the  min- 
ister, in  Framingham.)  "We  supped  very  plentifully  and 
for  a  Rarity  had  a  Pea-Hen  roasted.  I  lodged  here  with  Mr. 
Tileston  and  Mr.  Thorn.  Bar1. 

"  Jan'y  9.  In  ye  morning,  Mr.  Swift  obliged  me  to  pray 
and  to  return  thanks  after  Breakfast.  .  .  .  Between  1 1 
and  I  o'clock  we  sat  out  from  Mr.  Swift's  for  Hopkinton. 
We  stopped  at  ye  Tavern  (Maynrd.)  where  yr  was  a  great 
number  of  Hopk.  People  and  at  Mr.  Jones  we  stopped  also. 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY.  91 

Coll.  How  was  in  the  company,  and  with  great  ceremony 
congratulated  me.  We  rode  together  on  the  Journey  to 
Hopk.  and  he  gave  me  to  understand  that  he  had  been  at 
West,  to  his  son  Agar's  where  he  was  informed  how  things 
was  carried  on. 

"  10.  In  ye  Morning  I  was  appointed  to  go  back  to  Mr. 
Hows  upon  Mr.  Cushing's  Horse  to  bring  Mrs.  Greaves  in  com- 
pany with  Mr.  Bar1  and  Mrs.,  old  Mr.  How  and  his  wife.  We 
dined  at  Mr.  Whood's  upon  roast  Goose,  roast  Pea-hen, 
Bak'd  Stuffd  Venison,  Beef,  Pork  &c.  After  dinner  we 
smok'd  a  pipe.  Read  Gov.  Shute's  Memorial  to  the  King." 

He  often  went  over  to  Marlborough  to  see  his  good  friend, 
Rev.  Mr.  Breck,  and  on  one  such  occasion  —  February  21, 
1 727  —  he  writes  :  — 

"  In  ye  morning,  Mr.  Jon.  How  came  and  invited  us  to  a 
fish  dinner,  accordingly  we  all  went  into  his  house  &  dined 
with  him  on  Haddock.  Here  his  brother  Hezekiah  of  West- 
boro'  happened  very  luckily,  whom  I  improved  to  carry 
home  my  fish  and  some  necessaries." 

This  fish  was  one  he  had  bought  to  carry  home  to  his 
wife,  from  Mr.  How,  who  had  just  returned  laden  from 
Boston. 

Sometimes  Mr.  Parkman  saddled  his  mare,  and  went  over 
to  Hopkinton  to  visit  his  old  friend,  Mr.  Barrett,  —  the  first 
minister  of  the  young  church  there.  How  he  regarded  the 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


little  Church  of  England  and  its  pastor,  the  Rev.  Roger 
Price,  we  do  not  know,  nor  what  stories  of  Lord  Frankland's 
life  reached  his  ears.  But  once  at  least  his  pony  galloped 


up  the  Frankland  avenue,  for  he  writes  in  his  journal,  under 
the  date  of  April  9,  1759:  "I  proceeded  to  Sir  Harry 
Frankland's  seat,  kept  now  by  Mr.  Jaques  Joseph  Villiers  de 
Rohan  marie  avec  Mdlle.  Frances  de  Turenne.  He  gave  me 
such  slips,  branches,  cions  &  seeds  as  I  desired  &  lent  me 
Du  Moulin's  book  of  the  accomplishment  of  ye  prophe- 


THE  MINISTER: s  FAMILY. 


93 


sies  or  Third  Book  of  ye  Defense  of  ye  Catholique  Faith. 
I  borrowed  it  for  ye  sake  of  a  trial  with  my  Mr.  Blanc,  for 
it  being  French  I  presume  not  to  read  much  of  it." 

The  story  of  Frankland  and  Agnes  has  been  told  to  a 
large  audience  by  the  poet,  the  historian,  and  the  novelist; 
to  one  much  smaller,  but  not  less  appreciative,  by  the  good 
old  colored  women,  who,  in  the  happiest  period  of  their 
lives,  formed  part  of  Sir  Harry's  family ;  and  by  the  last  of 
his  old  servants,  who  loved  to  recount  to  the  wondering 
children  on  their  knees  the  glories  of  feast,  or  hunt,  or  revel 
in  which  they  bore  a  humble  part.  They  have  long  since 
passed  away.  The  children,  the  few  who  still  are  spared, 
have  numbered  their  fourscore  years. 

In  the  "  Worcester  Magazine,"  published  in  1843,  is  an 
article  entitled  "A  Legend  of  New  England,"  by  William 
Lincoln.  This  was  one  of  the  first  accounts  of  Frankland's 
New  England  life.  Not  many  years  afterwards  Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes  published  his  poem  entitled  "  Agnes." 
The  following  extract  is  his  description  of  the  place  as 
it  then  appeared  :  — 

"  With  blackening  wall  and  mossy  roof, 

With  stained  and  warping  floor, 
A  stately  mansion  stands  aloof, 


94  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

"This  lowlier  portal  may  be  tried, 

That  breaks  the  gable  wall ; 
And  lo !  with  arches  opening  wide, 
Sir  Harry  Frankland's  hall. 

'"Twas  in  the  second  George's  day 

They  sought  the  forest-shade  ; 
The  knotted  trunks  they  cleared  away, 
The  massive  beams  they  laid. 

"  They  piled  the  rock-hewn  chimney  tall ; 

They  smoothed  the  terraced  ground; 
They  reared  the  marble  pillared  wall, 
That  fenced  the  mansion  round. 

"  Far  stretched  beyond  the  village  bound 

The  master's  broad  domain  ; 
With  page  and  valet,  horse  and  hound, 
He  kept  a  goodly  train. 


:<  I  tell  you  as  my  tale  began 

The  hall  is  standing  still ; 
And  you,  kind  listener,  maid  or  man, 
May  see  it,  if  you  will. 

•'  The  box  is  glistening  huge  and  green ; 

Like  trees  the  lilacs  grow; 
Three  elms  high  arching  still  are  seen, 
And  one  lies  prone  below. 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY.  95 

"The  hangings,  rough  with  velvet  flowers, 

Flap  on  the  latticed  wall ; 

And  o'er  the  mossy  ridge-pole  towers  « 

The  rock-hewn  chimney  tall. 

"Thus  Agnes  won  her  noble  name, 

Her  lawless  lover's  hand  ; 
The  lowly  maiden  so  became 
A  lady  in  the  land." 

In  1860  Rev.  Elias  Nason  published  a  monograph  on 
Frankland,  which  has  given  us  the  most  reliable  historical 
account  of  the  house. 

Within  a  few  years,  E.  L.  Bynner  has  greatly  increased 
the  interest  which  already  centred  on  this  colonial  home- 
stead by  his  charming  story  of  "  Agnes  Surriage." 

Mrs.  H.  B.  Stowe  has,  under  the  name  of  the  Dench 
House,  made  the  Frankland  House  the  scene  of  a  large  and 
important  part  of  "  Oldtown  Folks." 

Sir  Charles  Henry  Frankland  —  the  son  of  the  Governor 
of  the  East  India  Company's  factory  in  Bengal,  and  a  lineal 
descendant  of  Oliver  Cromwell  —  was  born  in  India,  May  16, 
1716.  He  became  collector  of  the  port  of  Boston  in  1741. 
He  is  best  known  by  the  romantic  story  of  his  love  for 
Agnes  Surriage,  a  beautiful  young  servant- girl  whom  he  first 
saw  at  the  inn  in  Marblehead.  She  lived  with  him  for  a 
time  in  Boston,  but  finding  public  opinion  too  strong  for 


96  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

them,  they  removed  in  1751  to  Hopkinton,  where  he  bought 
a  farm  of  four  hundred  and  eighty-two  acres.  This  is  on  the 
old  road  from  Ashland  to  Hopkinton,  and  is  best  reached 
from  Westborough  by  driving  to  Ashland  Centre.  Mr. 
Nason  has  described  the  location  of  the  place  as  follows  :  - 

"The  tract  lies  along  the  southern  and  western  slope  of 
a  noble  eminence  called  in  the  Nipmuck  tongue  '  Magunco,' 
or  the  '  place  of  great  trees,'  where  the  celebrated  John 
Eliot  had  in  earlier  times  an  Indian  church.  On  an 
eligible  and  commanding  site  upon  the  south-western  incli- 
nation of  this  Indian  hill  the  baronet  erected  a  commodious 
manor-house ;  reduced  about  one  hundred  and  thirty  acres 
of  his  land  to  tillage ;  planted  an  extensive  orchard  ;  built  a 
costly  barn  one  hundred  and  thirty  feet  in  length  and  sur- 
mounted by  a  cupola ;  a  granary,  which  was  set  upon  elabo- 
rately wrought  freestone  pillars  ;  and  houses  for  his  servants, 
which  were  equal  to  those  of  many  of  the  farmers  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. Having  a  taste  for  horticulture,  he  introduced  a 
great  variety  of  the  choicest  fruit,  such  as  apples,  pears,  plums, 
peaches  of  excellent  quality,  apricots  and  quinces  from  Eng- 
land ;  and  having  an  eye  for  beauty,  he  set  out  elms  and 
other  ornamental  trees  upon  his  grounds,  and  embellished  his 
walks  and  garden  with  the  box,  the  lilac,  hawthorn,  and  the 
rose ;  some  portion  of  the  shrubbery  still  blooms  as  beau- 
tifully as  when  George  II.  sat  upon  the  throne. 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY.  gj 

"  The  mansion  was  large  and  strongly  built.  It  stood  at 
some  distance  from  the  main  road,  and  was  approached  by 
a  noble  avenue  cut  through  the  chestnut  forest  and  by  a 
flower-garden  tastefully  arranged  in  front.  The  spacious 
hall,  sustained  by  fluted  columns,  was  hung  with  tapestry 
richly  ornamented  with  dark  figures,  on  a  ground  of  deepest 
green,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  times.  The  chim- 
ney-pieces were  of  Italian  marble,  and  cornices  of  stucco- 
work  and  other  costly  finishing  embellished  the  parlor, 
ante-rooms,  and  chambers. 

"  The  grounds  immediately  around  the  house  were  formed 
into  terraces  by  the  hands  of  slaves,  and  the  waters  from 
the  living  springs  above  clothed  them  in  liveliest  verdure." 

Here  Frankland  and  Agnes  lived  for  three  years,  enter- 
taining the  elite  of  Boston,  astonishing  the  young  people 
of  the  neighborhood  by  their  gorgeous  equipage,  and 
defying  the  opinion  of  the  good  old  New  England  women, 
who  would  have  said,  like  Aunt  Lois :  "  I  never  had 
much  opinion  of  Sir  Harry  Frankland  or  Lady  Frankland 
either.  I  don't  think  such  goings-on  ought  to  be  counte- 
nanced in  society."  While  in  Hopkinton,  they  attended 
Rev.  Mr.  Price's  church,  in  the  centre  of  the  town. 

They  kept  from  twelve  to  sixteen  slaves, — among  them, 
Jacinta,  Bacchus,  Hannah,  the  favorite  Robert,  —  called 
Daddy  Bobby,  —  Cato,  and  Dinah,  of  whom  more  hereafter. 


98 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


One  of  the  special  appointments  of  the  house  was  a 
large,  well-constructed  wine-cellar,  and  the  story  is  well 
authenticated  of  Sir  Harry's  wine-glass  having  a  double 
wall,  so  that  he  always  kept  sober,  while  his  guests,  with 
their  larger  glasses,  were  intoxicated. 

When  Sir  Harry  left  Hopkinton,  Agnes  went  with  him, 
and  after  her  heroic  rescue  of  him  from  the  ruins  of  Lis- 
bon, at  the  time  of  the  earthquake,  she  was  married  to  him. 

In  1763  they  returned  to  Hopkinton,  and  spent  about  a 
year  on  their  farm.  This  was  his  last  visit  there.  Five 
years  later  he  died.  After  his  death,  Lady  Frankland  made 
her  home  there,  with  her  sister  and  her  sister's  children, 
until  1/75,  when,  alarmed  at  the  movements  of  the  people, 
she  asked  permission  to  go  to  Boston.  This  was  granted 
her  by  the  Committee  of  Safety,  and  also  liberty  to  take 
with  her  "  six  trunks,  one  chest,  three  beds  and  bedding  for 
the  same,  six  sheep,  two  pigs,  one  small  keg  of  pickled 
tongues,  some  hay,  three  bags  of  corn,  and  such  other  goods 
as  she  should  think  proper  to  carry  thither."  She  was 
arrested  on  the  way,  notwithstanding  this  permit,  and  held 
until  released  by  an  order  of  the  Provincial  Court,  who 
furnished  her  with  an  escort  and  allowed  her  to  take  "  seven 
trunks,  all  her  beds  and  bedding,  all  her  boxes  and  crates, 
a  basket  of  chickens,  two  barrels  and  a  hamper,  two  horses 
and  chaises,  a  phaeton,  some  ham  and  veal,  and  sundry 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY. 


99 


small  bundles."  The  "  arms  and  ammunition "  which  had 
been  put  in  one  of  the  chaises  were  detained  by  the  com- 
mittee. Soon  after  reaching  Boston,  she  went  to  England, 
where  she  died,  about  a  year  after  her  marriage  to  Mr.  John 
Drew,  a  banker.  She  was  buried  in  the  tomb  of  the  Drew 
family,  with  this  epitaph  :  — 


DAME    AGNES    FRANKLAND 

RELICT    OF 

SIR    CHARLES    HENRY    FRANKLAND,     BART, 
AND    LATE    WIFE    OF 

JOHN     DREW 

DIED    APRIL    23,     1783 

AGED    55    YEARS. 


"  Virtue,  not  rolling  Suns,  the  mind  matures. 
That  life  is  long  which  answers  life's  great  end, 
The  time  that  bears  no  fruit,  deserves  no  name ; 
The  man  of  wisdom  is  the  man  of  years." 

The  Hopkinton  farm  passed  out  of  the  hands  of  the  Sur- 
riage  family  in  1703,  when  it  was  sold  for  nine  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  to  Dr.  Timothy  Shepard.  In  1857  it 
was  purchased  bv  Rev.  Elias  Nason.  The  commodious 


IOQ  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

barn  had  already  disappeared,  being  blown  down  in  the 
famous  hurricane  of  1815.  Soon  after  Mr.  Nason  pur- 
chased the  house  it  was  entirely  destroyed  by  fire.  He 
immediately  rebuilt  it  on  the  old  foundations  as  nearly  as 
possible  like  the  original.  Now  the  only  things  left  as 
they  were  in  the  days  of  Agnes  are  the  stone  walls,  the 
terraces,  the  wrought  sandstone  of  the  granary,  the  box 
and  Persian  lilacs,  the  snowball,  buckthorn,  pear  and  apple 
trees,  and  three  of  the  seven  elms  which  were  on  the  west 
side  of  the  avenue. 

The  last  years  of  Mr.  Parkman's  life  were  overclouded. 
He  had  preached  to  the  same  congregation  for  nearly  sixty 
years,  not  only  twice  a  day  on  the  Sabbath,  and  once  on 
lecture  days,  but  very  often  at  his  parishioners'  houses,  at 
their  own  request.  No  wonder  he  writes,  after  a  morning 
spent  in  his  study  in  1778:  "  Am  engaged  in  Sermonizing 
somewhat ;  but,  oh,  my  Leanness  !  " 

There  were  those  among  his  flock  ready  to  criticise  and 
find  fault.  December,  1778,  he  preaches  a  private  sermon 
at  Mr.  Levi  Warren's,  and  adds  to  his  account  of  it:  "  N.  B. 
Mr.  Daniel  Hardy  was  at  Mr.  Warrin's  before  y°  exercises 
began,  and  manifested  his  Disgust  at  my  Sermon  on  ye  late 
Thanksg'g.  He  found  fault  at  my  saying  so  much  about  sing- 
ing ye  praises  of  G.  I  replied  that  it  was  ye  very  Business 


THE    MINISTER'S    FAMILY.  IOi 

of  ye  Day  —  the  present  Truth  —  yl  if  he  was  dissatisfied 
wth  it  he  had  need  ask  himself  whether  it  was  not  y*  he  him- 
self was  out  of  tune." 

His  financial  matters  were  in  an  unfortunate  condition ; 
the  town  even  complained  of  the  size  of  his  family,  some 
thinking  eighteen  too  many  for  them  to  support  He  finds 
it  hard  to  get  hired  help.  His  wife  with  her  own  hands  kills 
the  geese  and  fowls  for  market ;  "  for  it  appears  necessary 
to  make  some  money  of  w*  we  raise,  that  we  may  be  able  to 
purchase  what  is  wanting  in  other  respects."  She  helped, 
as  well  as  her  daughters,  in  other  ways.  In  1799  he  writes: 
"  N.B.  Thad.  Warrin  &  Step.  Maynard  cutt  up  part  of  ye 
wood-pile  to-day  to  pay  Mrs.  Parkman  for  knitting  for  ye 
latter  of  ym.  Yy  dind.  Yy  workd  till  evening." 

At  the  same  time  he  is  sending  his  son  Elias  to  Harvard 
College,  and  his  heart  is  bound  up  in  this  son's  success. 
Many  little  household  economies  are  practised  that  Elias 
may  have  money  for  his  quarter's  bills  and  good  homespun 
clothing  made  by  the  farmer's  wives  around.  One  time  he, 
speaking  of  his  return  to  Cambridge,  November  7,  1778, 
adds:  "  I  gave  him  14  Doll1*.  my  newest  shoes  —  a  variety 
of  Cloathing — half  a  large  Cheese,  &c.  &c.  May  God  in- 
cline his  Heart  to  Religion  and  Learning."  And  in  1780: 
"N.B.  Breck  to  Boston:  gave  him  126  Dollars  towards  an 
Hatt  for  Elias." 


102  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

Mr.  Parkman's  own  health,  never  very  strong,  gradually 
gave  way  more  and  more.  In  1779  he  writes  :  "  For  several 
days,  I  have  drooped,  and  have  but  low  appetite,  esp.  at  din- 
ing. I  am  become  thinner,  but  Ps.  73.  26." 

There  is  something  pathetic  in  the  picture  he  leaves  of  his 
last  years,  yet  not  sad ;  for  the  message  he  had  for  so  many 
years  brought  to  others  had  sunk  deep  into  his  own  heart. 
He  had  no  fears,  except  of  his  own  worthiness.  Death 
to  him  was  a  welcome  opening  into  the  life  beyond. 


THE    TOWN   PHYSICIAN.  IC>3 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    TOWN    PHYSICIAN. 

the  early  days  of  the  settlement  of  the  town 
the  physician's  place  was  never  first.  In  sick- 
ness and  health  the  minister  was  most  important. 
There  were  very  many  in  those  days  who  did  not  "  believe 
in  doctors,"  and  preferred  to  let  nature,  unassisted,  establish 
a  cure;  or,  if  that  were  impossible,  with  the  prayers  of  the 
pastor  and  of  the  deacons,  accept  the  sentence  imposed 
upon  them.  Mr.  Parkman  writes  of  his  own  severe  illness 
in  1729,  "  I  was  under  the  care  of  Rev.  Mr.  Barret  and 
Dr.  Robie."  Two  years  before  this  he  had  made  a  record 
of  one  of  his  pastoral  calls  as  follows:  "Jan'y  17,  1727, 
Mr.  Holloway  sent  his  Lad  for  me  for  his  child.  I  rode 
over  and  found  it  but  alive,  I  prayed  for  it  and  ye  child 
chang'd  and  expired  while  I  continued  to  Instruct,  Exhort 
and  Suggest."  A  little  later  the  officers  of  the  church 
divided  the  town  into  districts,  and  chose  their  most  faith- 
ful religious  men  to  visit  the  sick  and  to  pray  with  them. 
In  1726  Mr.  Parkman  sent  for  Dr.  Matthews  for  little 


104  THE    tiVXDREDTH  TOWX. 

Mary,  showing  that  at  that  early  date,  at  least  one 
physician  was  in  practice  here;  and  Dr.' Ball,  the  famous 
old  Northborough  doctor,  thirty  years  afterwards  numbered 
many  Westborough  people  among  his  patients  and  friends. 

The  doctor  was  more  one  of  them  than  the  minister. 
He  was  not  necessarily  a  very  learned  man ;  his  library 
was  small,  if  indeed  he  had  any.  He  was  obliged  to 
eke  out  his  slender  fees  in  many  ways,  —  by  farming,  trading, 
or  any  good  honest  work  which  best  suited  his  taste. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  practice  of  medicine  was 
simply  a  means  of  eking  out  a  small  income,  the  prac- 
titioner having  no  knowledge  or  conscience  in  his  pro- 
fession, the  punishment  was  speedy  and  severe.  In  the 
General  Court  Records  for  1630/1  we  find  the  following 
account  of  justice  done  to  one  of  these  quacks :  "  Nicholas 
Knopp  is  fyned  ;£V  for  takeing  upon  him  to  cure  the 
scurvey  by  a  water  of  noe  worth  nor  value  which  he  solde 
att  a  very  deare  rate,  to  be  imprisoned  till  hee  pay  his 
ffine  or  give  securitye  for  it  or  els  to  be  whipped  and  shall 
be  lyable  to  any  man's  accon  of  whom  hee  hath  receaved 
money  for  sd  water."  (Gen.  Ct.  Rec.,  Vol.  I.,  p.  82.) 

When 'a  new  settlement  was  formed,  it  was  customary 
to  set  aside  a  tract  of  land  for  the  use  and  allurement  of 
the  minister,  the  miller,  the  blacksmith,  and  the  school- 
master ;  but  rarely,  if  ever,  was  any  such  inducement  held 
out  to  the  physician. 


THE    TOWN   PHYSICIAN. 


In  case  of  illness,  the  neighbors  were  first  summoned, 
and  the  stores  of  medicinal  dried  herbs,  tied  in  bunches 
and  put  away  against  the  time  of  need,  were  brought 
out.  When  these  failed  to  give  relief,  the  doctor  was  called. 
He  galloped  up  to  the  door,  with  his  medicines  in  his 
saddle-bags,  and  his  stock  of  surgical  instruments  either 
in  the  same  convenient  receptacle,  or  in  his  small  black 
pocket-  case.  There  was  one  he  never  went  without,  and 
rarely  failed  to  use,  —  this  was  the  lancet;  and  he  usually 
noted  down  in  his  memorandum-book,  "  Visit  and  venesec- 
tion, "  sometimes  expressing  the  same  idea  more  pleasantly 
by  the  phrase  "  Visit  and  attendance." 

It  was  not  until  1764  that  a  young  physician  came 
here  to  settle,  who  was  destined  to  have  a  large  influence 
in  town.  In  a  few  carefully  written  note-books  he  has 
left  us  a  slight  history  of  his  own  professional  and  legal 
life,  and  of  the  art  of  medicine  as  practised  in  this  town 
a  hundred  years  ago. 

He  bought  a  tract  of  land  on  what  is  now  East  Main 
street,  with  the  buildings  thereon.  It  contained  ten  acres,  and 
he  paid  eighty  pounds  lawful  money  for  it.  It  was  bounded 
on  the  north  by  the  land  of  Captain  Samuel  Forbush  and 
by  common  land,  on  the  west  by  a  beaver  dam,  south 
by  a  ditch,  and  other  ways  by  highways.  His  house  is 
still  standing,  on  the  corner  of  East  Main  and  Lyman 


io6 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


streets,  with  no  important  alterations  except  those  he  made 
himself.  It  was  a  wooden  building,  painted  red ;  since  then 
it  has  received  a  coat  of  plaster.  It  had  been  occupied 
by  the  famous  Tom  Cook,  of  whom  more  hereafter,  and 
bore,  and  still  bears,  on  the  parlor  floor,  the  marks  of 
Tom's  axe.  As  first  purchased  by  Dr.  Hawes,  it  con- 


sisted  of  four  rooms  below,  and  good  chambers  on  the 
second  floor.  There  was  the  parlor,  a  small  square- 
chamber  opening  out  of  it  (now  the  front  hall)  ;  on  the 
other  side  of  the  parlor  was  the  hall,  opening  into  the 
kitchen  and  the  doctor's  office,  part  of  the  latter  forming 
a  projection  on  the  west  side  of  the  house.  This  room 
now  is  smaller  than  in  his  day,  and  is  used  as  a  passage- 
way to  the  wood-house  beyond. 


THE    TOWN   PHYSICIAN. 


In  this  room  was  the  tall  chest  of  narrow  drawers, 
each  one  marked  like  those  of  a  modern  drug-store,  the 
narrow-seated,  stiff  office-chair,  the  small  scales  for  weigh- 
ing out  medicine,  the  iron  mortar  and  pestle  for  their 
proper  preparation,  the  few  medical  books,  including  the 
one  he  had  laboriously  copied  out  himself  from  a  rare 
printed  copy,  and  possibly  his  records  as  Justice  of  the 
Peace. 

He  was  born  in  1739,  being,  therefore,  twenty-five  when 
he  left  his  practice  already  established  in  Wrentham  and 
settled  here. 

Dr.  Hawes  is  described  by  a  gentleman  over  ninety 
as  being  rather  tall,  plain-looking,  with  his  hair  standing 
up  straight  from  his  forehead.  He  was  the  most  promi- 
nent citizen  of  Westborough  during  many  years.  As  a 
farmer,  physician,  and  lawyer,  he  led  a  busy  life.  As 
Justice  of  the  Peace,  all  the  small  law  matters  came  before 
him.  He  was  no  less  active  in  politics  ;  for  many  years 
was  Town  Clerk  ;  during  the  Revolution  was  an  active 
home-worker,  holding,  unflinchingly,  the  very  unpopular 
position  of  constable  for  both  districts,  doing  in  that  line 
alone  the  work  of  two  men.  After  the  men  returned  from 
the  war,  it  is  said  they  were  drawn  up  in  line  on  the  com- 
mon, and  Dr.  Hawes  shook  hands  with  each  one. 

For   many   years   he   was   deacon   of  the    Congregational 


I08  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

church.  He 'was  one  of  the  original  founders  of  the  Baptist 
church,  which  for  some  time  met  in  his  son's  parlor,  in  the 
farther  end  of  his  house.  He  gave  them  land  in  his  garden, 
on  the  corner  of  East  Main  and  Lyman  streets,  for  the  erec- 
tion of  a  church  building.  Here  the  first  Baptist  church 
was  built,  and  the  old  stone  step  still  marks  the  site. 

He  lived  here  nearly  fifty  years,  all  the  time  in  the  same 
house.  He  died,  with  his  "  honors  thick  upon  him,"  in  1821. 

One  of  his  memorandum-books  is  bound  in  parchment, 
with  a  brass  clasp.  Although  his  commercial  and  legal  pur- 
suits were  so  closely  connected  with  his  medical  life  that 
it  was  not  possible  to  entirely  separate  the  accounts,  yet  this 
small  volume  is  almost  wholly  devoted  to  his  professional 
visits,  the  medicines  he  furnished,  and  the  charges  for  both. 

One  of  the  earliest  is  in  1773,  where  there  is  a  long  bill 
made  out  to  Benjamin  Tanter.  Among  other  items  are 
these : — 

"  To    Rum,   Sugar,   Brandy,   Tee,   molasses   and   Sundary 
medicines  and  attendance  £5.  14   3 
April   &  May    1777.     To    medicine    &    attend- 
ance in  small-pox,         .....       ,£3.  o.  o 
July  28.     To   Samp,  Beens,  Rice,  Basket,  Mo- 
lasses &  Rasons    .          .          .          .          .          .          o.  4.  6  " 

On  the  opposite  page  is  "  Counter,"  as  follows :  — 


THE     TOWN   PHYSICIAN. 

"March  1772.   Received  8  vials         .          .          .  o.     I.   2 

Received  20  \v.  of  cheese  .          .  o.  12.   3 

April  1774.         By  6  barrels  of  Cyder       .          .  o.  16.  o 

"  Tee  and  veal       .          .          .  o.     3 9 

June  1773.             "  carting  13  gallons  of  wine    .  o.     i.  o 

March  1776.         "        "       wine  to  Hartford      .  o.     8.   2 

June   1777.  "  house  rent  for  inoculating, 

&c. .                             .  8.  14.  o" 

Following  the  custom  of  the  time,  he  seems  to  have  kept 
a  stock  of  groceries  and  other  commodities,  which  he  dis- 
pensed to  his  patients  at  the  regular  rates.  Many  of  his 
bills  read  something  like  the  one  made  out  to  Mr.  Isaac 
Ruggles  in  1795.  This  is:  — 

"January.     To  49  Ib.  of  beef  at  I2j  Ib.          .  o.  14.   3^ 

1795.     To  cloves    §  ij.     Delivered  to  Sanford  .  o.     2.  4 

May.     To  a  calico  bag     .          .          .          .          .  o.     2.  o 

Oct.  27.     To  Elix.     Proprit.  §  i        .          .          .  o.     o.   7 

1796  Nov.      To  12  bushels  of  Potatoes     .         .  o.  18.  o 

June  1799.       "  extracting  a  Dentis           .          .  o.     o.  9 

January  1800  "  visit  and  medicine    .          .          .  o.     2.   3 

1801                  "   Harvey's  indenture .          .          .  o.     2.   5 


Sept.  25      Mr.  Ruggles  account        .          .          .          2.     2.   7" 
His  usual  price  for  "extracting  a  Dentis"  (the  word  he 


HO  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

always  used  for  tooth)  was  sixpence.  After  1800,  when 
most  of  his  f  accounts  are  kept  in  dollars  and  cents,  it  was 
twelve  and  one-half  cents. 

He  opened  his  house  freely  to  strangers  in  town,  gave 
them  probably  as  good  accommodation  as  they  would  have 
had  at  the  tavern,  and  charged  something  as  follows :  — 

"  To  John  Wesson  of  Brookfield  Dr., 

March  12,  1793.         To  2  glasses  of  brandy  .  o.  o.  9 

"  a  supper          .         .  .  o.    I.  2 

13.  "a  Loging          .         .  .  o.  o.  6 

"   a  glass  of  Brandy    .  .          0.4^ 


3-   li" 

His  bills  were  often  paid  by  barter,  —  by  butter,  hay, 
"  taller,"  cider,  spinning,  etc.  Among  the  things  furnished 
his  patients  we  find  many  like  the  following :  — 

"Oct.  4.  1776.  To  2  quarts  of  Rum.  0.1.2.  Sept.  1773 
To  2  Gallns  of  Rum.  0.4.2.  Nov.  19.  1789.  To  a  razor  o.i.o. 
March  1779  To  2  barrels.  0.4.0.  Oct  21.  1778  To  puden 
pan  0.0.8.  April  1777.  To  a  half  pint  bottle  0.0.6.  1783. 
To  an  old  pair  of  saddle-bags  0.1.6.  A  pigg.  6s.  1777.  a 
cord  of  wood — 0.6.0.  Andirons.  6s.  I  doz.  buttons  rod. 
1787.  To  Jacket  &  Briches  0.4.6." 

He  often  let  his  horse,  and   from  his  account-book,  and 


THE    TOWN   PHYSICIAN.  lll 

one  belonging  to  his  son,  James  Hawes,  Jr.,  we  get  the  ordi- 
nary rates  of  horse-hire  in  those  days. 

"Dec.  10.  1766   (from   an  old  account  of  Elijah 

Warren's)  for  my  hors  to  ride  three  miles        .     3  d.  I  qr. 
Oct.  10.  1791.     To  my  Shays  to  Boston  30  miles  6  s 

1792.     To  my  horse  to  Sutton    12     "  0.2.0 

June  10.  1809.     To   my  horse   to   Hopkinton    & 

Worcester        .          .          .          .          .          .          .          .71  cts. 

June  10.  1809.     To  my  horse  to  Hopkinton      6 

miles       .          .          .          .  .          .          .          .17     " 

1810.  June  12.       "     "         "    to  Worcester       n 

miles       ........          .50 

1812.  To  my  horse  to  Grafton      6  miles          .38 

"     Feb'y  7.   "     "  sley      "    Holliston  1 1  miles          .25 
In  1 8 1 o.     Mr.  Asaph  Warren  charged  for  his  horse 

to  Boston  .     $1.17 

to  Hopkinton    .          .50 
'  Hors  wagon  to  Lynn  '          .        1.35 
Horse  &  sleigh  to  Henniker  N.H.  .       4.70  " 

Dr.  Hawes  sold  to  his  patients  all  the  drugs  of  which  they 
had  need,  and  paid  a  fair  price  for  the  bottles  and  vials 
which  were  returned  to  him. 

The  last  part  of  his  life  the  son  of  old  Dr.  Stephen  Ball,  of 
Northborough,  had  commenced  practice,  and  opened  the 


H2  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

drug-store  which  supplied  not.  only  the  town,  but  many 
physicians  in  neighboring  towns,  Dr.  Hawes  among  the 
number.  The  house  in  which  he  lived,  now  occupied  by  his 
daughters,  is  on  Main  street,  in  Northborough,  near  the  cor- 
ner of  School  street.  In  the  parlor  is  a  fine  oil-painting  of 
the  old  physician,  with  his  round,  full  face,  genial  smile,  and 
ruffled  shirt-front. 

Every  one  that  remembers  Dr.  Ball  can  still  see  him 
jolting  around  in  his  yellow-topped  gig,  drawn  by  the 
"  Parmenter  mare,"  with  her  head,  back,  and  tail  all  in  a 
line,  the  star  on  her  forehead  bobbing  slowly  up  and  down, 
and  her  short  tail  and  hind  leg  making  spasmodic  attempts 
to  brush  off  the  flies.  The  doctor  sat  in  the  gig,  a  short, 
stout  man,  with  a  very  short  neck,  wearing  in  winter  a  fur 
hat,  much  larger  at  the  top  than  at  the  bottom,  including 
even  the  inch-wide  brim,  and  in  summer  a  plain  straw, 
painted  drab.  Even  in  those  late  days,  when  the  canvas- 
covered  gig  had  superseded  the  saddle,  he  still  carried  his 
medicines  in  his  saddle-bags,  and  it  was  a  common  remark 
that  any  one  passing  Dr.  Ball  in  the  dark  could  recognize 
him  by  the  odor  of  drugs  exhaled  from  the  old  gig. 

He  was  a  quiet  man,  never  very  merry,  sorrowful,  or 
angry,  with  a  gentle,  "softly"  way  with  his  patients.  What- 
ever the  trouble,  his  programme  on  visiting  the  sick  was 
usually  the  same :  first  he  bled  the  arm,  then  gave  a 


THE    TOWN   PHYSICIAN.  l  l  $ 

severe  emetic,  followed  by  doses  of  calomel  and  jalap.  One 
of  his  favorite  prescriptions  for  easing  pain  he  called  "  fly- 
away "  pills,  and  gave  them  with  the  gentle  joke,  "  But  I 
guess  you  won't  fly  away  to-night."  His  family  own  a  book 
in  which  he  wrote  down  prescriptions  which  were  recom- 
mended to  him  by  other  physicians.  He  calls  this  his 
"  Resipee  Book."  Among  others  is  a  "  Receipt  to  the 
Scratches.  R.  one  qrt  fishworms  washed  clean,  one  pound 
hog's  lard  stewed  together,  filtred  through  a  strainer  &  add 
half  pint  oil  turpentine,  half  pint  good  brandy  simmer  it  well 
&  is  fit  for  use." 

It  was  said  whenever  Dr.  Ball  called  on  a  patient,  he 
drew  a  chair  up  to  the  table,  which  in  a  few  minutes  was 
covered  with  cups  and  tumblers,  dried  herbs  and  powders, 
and  bits  of  paper  with  carefully  written  directions  for  steep- 
ing and  properly  preparing  the  various  drugs.  We  can 
appreciate  this  better,  if  we  turn  over  the  leaves  of  this  old 
book  and  read  one  of  his  famous  recipes.  It  is  called  — 

"UNGUENTUM   POLYCHRES. 

"  R  Green  Tobacco,  Henbane,  chamomile.  Cheese  Mal- 
lows, Bitter  sweet  Root,  Melilot,  Yallow  Pond  Lily  Root, 
Night  Shade,  Hearts-ease,  Dock  leaves,  Plantin  Leaves, 
Saint  John's  Wort  Mouse  Ear  Garlicke  Comfrey  Leaves 
Buds  of  Walnut  Old  David's  Weed  Garden  Scurvey  Grass 


II4  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

Burdock;  Elder  Heat  all  Catnip.  Carpenter  Weed  Marsh 
Mallows  both  sorts,  Chelindine  Fenney  wort  yarrow  low 
balm  Gout  Root  Leaves. 

"  Fresh  butter  hogs  lard  ana  equal  quantities  pipermint." 

One  day  one  of  his  patients  said  to  him,  "  What  is  the 
need  of  so  many  different  things,  doctor?  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  doctor,  in  his  mild  way,  "  if  you  are  going 
to  shoot  a  bird,  you  use  plenty  of  shot.  Some  of  these 
things  will  be  pretty  sure  to.  hit  the  case." 

"  Tell  the  old  doctor,"  said  a  young  physician  just  moved 
into  town,  "  that  now-a-days  we  don't  use  shot-guns.  We 
use  rifles." 

His  directions  to  his  patients  were  usually  given  in  about 
the  same  formula,  and  have  a  suggestion  of  constant  use  of 
the  gun,  as  well  as  plenty  of  shot.  He  would  say:  "  Take 
a  little  of  this  ere  and  a  little  of  that  air,  put  it  in  a  jug  be- 
fore the  fire,  stir  it  up  with  your  little  finger,  and  take  it 
when  you  are  warm,  hot,  cold,  or  feverish." 

Dr.  Ball  left  among  his  papers  an  article  on  the  power 
of  the  imagination,  which  is  here  given,  copied  from  his 
manuscript.  The  house  at  which  he  dined  was  then  occu- 
pied by  Mr.  Amasa  Maynard,  a  gentleman  much  given  to 
practical  jokes.  The  house  is  in  Westborough,  standing 
then  on  Fisher  street,  nearly  opposite  the  creamery.  It  was 
called  the  "  Oak  house,"  because  it  was  built  entirely  of  oak. 


THE    TOWN  PHYSICIAN.  n$ 

It  has  since  been  moved,  and  is  now  the  second  house  beyond 
No.  7  school-house. 

"IMAGINATION. 

"  In  an  earliy  part  of  my  Practice  I  was  called  into  a  neigh- 
boring Town  to  Visit  a  Patient.  It  being  about  the  middle 
of  the  day,  the  old  gentleman  of  the  house  invited  me  to 
stop  and  dine  with  him.  While  at  dinner,  he  sayes,  '  I  don't 
know  as  you  like  my  dinner.'  Why  yes  said  I,  I  doe  like  it 
very  well.  I  guess  said  he  you  don't  know  what  you  are 
eating.  Why  yes  said  I,  I  doe,  it  is  some  new  corned  beefe. 
Ah  said  the  old  gentleman  (he  being  over  60  yrs.  old)  it  is 
horse  beefe.  I  replied  I  don't  believe  it.  It  is  said  he.  I 
declare  it  is  some  of  my  old  Mare.  I  was  not  much  ac- 
quainted with  him  at  that  time.  I  looked  at  him  supposing 
him  to  be  a  joking,  but  could  not  discover  a  mustle  of  his 
face  to  change  or  alter.  I  had  just  taken  another  piece  on 
my  plate  and  a  mouthful  of  the  second  slice  in  my  mouth, 
and  in  fact  it  was  horse  meat  sure  enough.  I  could  taste  it 
as  plain  as  my  olfactory  nerves  would  discover  the  sent  of  an 
old  horse.  The  more  I  chewed  it,  the  more  disagreeable  it 
tasted.  I  continued  taking  a  little  sauce  in  my  mouth.  I 
could  swallow,  but  the  meat  as  the  negro  said  was  no  go. 
I  at  last  'gave  a  swallow  as  I  doe  with  a  dose  of  Physick. 
I  thought  I  should  have  thrown  the  whole  contents  of  my 


H6  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

stomach  up  at  the  table.  I  afterwards  tasted  a  little  sauce, 
but  took  care  not  to  put  any  more  meat  in  my  mouth,  and 
kept  time  with  the  family,  and  glad  was  I  when  dinner  was 
over.  It  being  cold  weather  the  old  gentleman  turned  to  the 
fire  and  went  to  smoking  and  telling  stories.  At  last  the 
gentleman  said,  '  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  I  wont  leave  you  in 
the  dark  about  your  dinner.  I  told  you  we  had  horse-meat 
for  dinner,  and  so  it  was  for  I  swapped  her  away  for  a  steere, 
and  that  was  some  of  the  beefe.'  I  have  ever  since  been 
glad  the  incident  occurred,  for  I  never  should  have  known 
how  far  imagination  would  carry  me,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
Joke  the  old  Gentleman  put  upon  me. 

"  Not  long  after  this  I  attended  a  Patient  a  yong  man  about 
1 8  or  19  years  old,  in  another  town,  sick  with  the  scarlet-fever 
and  throat  distemper  (Scarlatina  Anginosa).  I  revisited 
him  on  Sunday  morning.  I  told  him  he  was  better,  his  dis- 
order had  turned,  he  was  doing  well.  I  saw  nothing  butt 
that  he  might  recover  soon.  I  had  business  further  along, 
and  on  my  return,  about  sunset,  I  called  again  and  be- 
held the  family  and  neighbors  ware  standing  around  in  a 
large  room,  seeing  the  patient  die.  I  spoke  to  his  mother, 
and  asked  her  what  was  the  matter.  O  said  she  Joel  is 
worse.  I  then  turned  to  my  Pupil  and  sayes  what  can  this 
mean.  He  said  I  dont  know.  I  am  shure  he  sayes  he  was 
doing  well  when  we  ware  here  in  the  morning.  I  then 


THE    TOWN   PHYSICIAN. 


117 


turned  again  to  his  mother  and  asked  her  what  had  taken 
place.  O,  she  said,  Joel  has  been  growing  worse  ever  since 
you  left  in  the  morning,  she  said  the  Minister  called  soon 
after  I  left,  and  he  said  he  might  live  till  night,  but  could  not 
probably  live  till  tomorrow  morning,  and  she  thought  it  her 
duty  to  let  her  son  know  the  near  approach  of  death.  I 
went  to  the  bed-side  and  I  veriyly  thought  him  to  be  a  dicing, 
he  had  a  deathly  pult  (subsutus  tendinum)  spasmodick  affec- 
tion of  the  face  and  jaws,  indeede  the  whole  system  was  gen- 
erally convulsed.  I  thought  of  the  horse-beefe.  I  sayes  to 
him  Joel,  I  guess  I  can  give  you  something  that  will  help 
you.  I  perceived  he  had  his  senses,  but  I  beleave  he  could 
not  speak.  I  immediately  prepared  him  a  cordial,  and  with 
much  difficulty  he  swallowed  a  verry  little.  I  walked  the 
room.  I  saw  his  eye  followed  me.  I  went  to  him  again,  got 
a  little  more  medicine  down,  felt  his  pulse,  told  him  he  was 
doing  a  little  better,  his  medicine  was  doing  him  good.  I 
told  him  I  guessed  he  would  doe  by  and  by  I  left  him  again, 
but  took  care-he  did  not  catch  my  eye  again.  I  paid  atten- 
tion to  him  in  this  way  for  some  hours,  untill  he  was  really 
better,  the  next  morning  he  was  much  better. 

"  He  has  told  me  since  I  can't  tell  how  many  times,  he 
certainly  should  have  died  that  night,  if  I  had  not  called  as- 
I  did.  He  is  now  living  in  the  state  of  New  York,  and  is 
nearly  70  years  old." 


Hg  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

This  would  fix  the  date  of  both  incidents  not  far  from 
1792. 

"A  report  got  out  that  I  said  I  would  as  lief  see  the 

d 1  about  my  Patients  as  a  Minister,  which  was  entirely 

untrue.  I  never  said  so.  I  always  like  to  have  the  clergy 
visit  my  Patients,  although  I  have  heard  them  ask  some 
questions  I  was  sorry  to  hear. 

"  I  have  been  in  the  practice  of  Physick  in  my  native  town 
about  50  years.  I  stood  alone  nearly  40  years,  except  in 
some  instances,  others  have  come  in  and  stoped  a  few  months 
and  then  were  off.  I  am  now  in  active  practice  in  the  county 
of  Worcester,  Massachusetts,  74. 

''February,  1842." 

Among  the  many  directions  left  by  the  physician,  there 
was  none  more  general  or  imperative  than  that  in  cases  of 
fever  no  cold  water  should  be  allowed. 

There  was  a  man,  Joseph  Carruth,  in  Northborough, 
living  as  hired  man  on  the  place  now  owned  by  S.  I.  Rice. 
He  was  very  ill  with  typhoid  fever.  The  doctor,  doubtless 
Dr.  Ball  or  his  father,  forbade  the  friends  yielding  to  his 
desire  for  a  drink  from  a  certain  spring  on  the  farm.  He 
did,  after  a  while,  compromise  a  little  by  allowing  him  a 
few  swallows,  previously  warmed  by  dropping  a  red-hot 
coal  in  the  cup  ;  but  the  man  wanted  it  cold. 

He  grew  worse,  and,  when  at  last  all  hope  of  his  recovery 


/ 'HE    TO  WN   PH YSICIAN.  l  l  9 

was  gone,  his  friends  decided  to  make  his  last  hours  as 
happy  and  comfortable  as  possible,  and,  taking  a  pitcher, 
one  of  them  went  to  the  spring. 

They  gathered  around  the  bedside,  to  see  him  die,  and 
put  the  pitcher  to  his  lips.  He  drained  it  to  the  bottom. 

The  next  day,  when  the  doctor  called,  he  found  his 
patient  on  the  road  to  recovery. 

Since  that  day,  the  spring  has  been  called  for  him,  "Jo 
spring." 

This  spring  is  in  a  meadow  beyond  Mr.  Rice's  house ; 
it  empties  into  a  natural  stone  basin,  and  for  a  hundred  and 
forty-five  years  has  not  been  known  to  be  dry. 


I2O 


THE    HUNDREDTPI    TOWN. 


CHAPTER    VI. 


LEGAL    PRACTICES. 


1782  Mr.  Parkman  felt  that  he  was  living  in 
"  very  degenerate  times."  There  was  to  his 
mind  an  "  evident  Increase  of  Vice  and  Wicked- 
ness "  and  "  a  sorrowful  Decay  of  Religion."  The  fear  of 
the  Indians,  which  a  couple  of  generations  before  had  knit 
the  people  together,  and  awakened  interest  in  and  sympathy 
for  each  other,  had  given  place  to  a  feeling  of  safety  and 
security.  They  became  less  dependent  on  each  other,  more 
prone  to  quarrels,  assaults,  suicide,  and  even  to  murder. 

The  lawyer's  hands  were  full  with  petty,  criminal  cases, 
adjustments  of  property  bounds,  and  agreements  of  one 
sort  and  another  between  individuals,  especially  between 
parents  and  children. 

People  at  a  comparatively  early  age  became  old.  Their 
days  of  active  work  were  less  in  number  than  ours  are  now, 
though  perhaps  they  accomplished  more  in  the  shorter 
time.  The  son,  when  his  parents  were  fifty  or  a  little  over, 
took  the  farm  and  house,  and  gave  a  bond  to  support  the 


LEGAL    PRACTICES.  I2i 

"old  people,"  whose  place  henceforth  was  on  the  other  side 
of  the  large  chimney. 

Church  members  were  by  no  means  exempt  from  the 
almost  universal  sins  of  the  times.  They  received  their 
sentence  at  court,  like  others,  and  then  were  brought  before 
the  church,  the  matter  was  thoroughly  investigated  anew,  a 
confession  was  demanded,  and  when  given,  the  offending 
member  was  restored  to  the  "  charity  "  which  each  one  felt 
it  might  be  his  turn  next  to  request. 

There  were  many  cases  of  swearing,  and  this  often 
among  the  most  respected  citixens.  Such  records  as  these, 
made  in  1783  and  1784,  are  common:  - 

£.  s.   d. 

"  A  fine  paid  by  Benj.  Warren  for  uttering 
Two  profane  Oaths  .  .  .  .  .  .  o.  5.  o'r 

"  A  fine  paid  by  Joseph  Rice,  Jr.  of  North- 
borough  for  uttering  three  profane  oaths  and 
Two  profane  Curses  .  .  .  .  .  .  o.  8.  o" 

"A  fine  paid  by  William  Nus  in  Westborough 
for  uttering  two  Profane  Curses  .  .  .  o.  6.  o  " 

One  profane  oath  was  usually  fined  four  shillings. 

"  Breach  of  the  Sabbath  "  was  another  fault  beginning 
to  creep  in,  and  threatening  to  do  away  with  the  Christian 
Sabbath  of  their  grandparents.  When  one  of  the  wealthy 


122  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

young  men  "  did  unnecessarily  ride  a  boute  the  Town  of 
Westborough "  on  the  Sabbath  day,  "at  the  time  that  the 
people  ware  assembling  to  the  meeting-house,"  he  was 
promptly  brought  before  the  justice,  and,  after  receiving 
due  admonition  for  the  evil  example  he  had  set  others 
"by  producing  disepation  of  manners  and  Immoralities  of 
Life,"  he  was  sentenced  to  pay  ten  shillings,  "  in  behalf  of 
the  Commonwealth  and  for  the  use  of  the  Commonwealth." 

"  Steeling,"  assaults,  "  sculing  [skulking]  about  the  town," 
defamation  of  character,  were  every-day  matters  in  even  this 
small  community,  composed  almost  entirely  of  people  of 
English  descent.  Greater  crimes  were  not  infrequent,  but 
were  carried  up  to  a  court  higher  than  the  one  held  here. 

A  few  cases,  illustrating  the  modes  of  punishment  in- 
flicted a  hundred  years  ago,  may  prove  not  uninstructive. 

These  are  selected  from  the  note-book  kept  by  the 
"  worshipful  James  Hawes,"  Justice  of  the  Peace,  as  well 
as  deacon  and  physician. 

He  usually  held  court  at  his  "  dwelling-house  in  West- 
borough,"  occasionally  at  the  house  of  Benjamin  Wood, 
innholder,  sometimes  at  that  of  Abijah  Gale,  innholder. 
Abijah  Gale's  house  is  still  standing  on  the  left-hand  side 
of  the  Southborough  road.  It  is  occupied  by  Dennis 
Fitzpatrick.  The  large  L  has,  since  the  days  of  the  Revo- 
lution, been  burned ;  but  the  main  part  of  the  house  is 


LEGAL    PRACTICES.  123 

still  as  it  was  when  crowded  with  eager  farmers,  their 
wives  and  children,  to  see  Burgoyne  and  his  army  march 
by. 

In  November,  1785,  William  Wood,  of  Westborough, 
had  Bertholomy  English  and  Polly  English  arrested  "  for 
feloniously  takeing,  Steeling,  and  carrying  of  from  the  sd 
Williams,  a  cotton  Lining  Sheet,  a  apron,  cap  and  Han- 
kerchief."  The  evidence  against  them  was  conclusive,  and 
Bertholomy  was  sentenced  "  to  pay  a  fine  of  ten  shillings 
and  the  said  polly  to  pay  a  fine  of  five  shillings  or  be 
whiped  on  the  naked  back  five  stripes  and  polly  three 
stripes."  They  said  they  had  nothing  to  pay  the  fine 
with,  and  "  consented  to  be  whiped  and  accordingly  received 
said  stripes  by  the  officer." 

The  parties  at  law  were  always  called  by  their  first 
names,  as  "  the  sd  Breck  and  Elijah,"  when  speaking  of 
Westborough's  well-known  store-keepers. 

It  was  not  at  all  unusual  for  a  man,  after  committing 
some  offence  against  the  laws  of  the  Commonwealth,  to 
hurry  off  to  the  nearest  justice,  and  explain  his  case.  Nor 
was  it  considered  illegal  to  impose  sentence  upon  him,  en- 
tirely upon  his  own  confession.  Sometimes,  before  the  trial 
was  concluded,  the  plaintiff  appeared,  as  in  the  following 
assault  case :  — 

"Be  it  remembered  that  Joseph  Forbes  of  Westborough 


124 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


in  the  county  of  Worcester,  yeoman.  Personally  appeared 
before  me  the  Subscriber  and  acknowledged  himself  guilty 
of  an  assault  and  Battery  on  the  body  of  Barnum  Blake  of 
the  same  Westborough  on  the  25th  day  of  September  1805, 
and  did  beat  the  sd  Blake  with  a  whip-lash  fore  or  six 
strokes  on  his  back  on  the  25th  day  of  September  A.D. 
1805  in  his  shop  in  sd.  Westborough,  and  as  said  Blake 
came  at  him  the  s<l  Forbes  he  then  took  said  Blake  and 
held  him  down  and  gave  him  five  or  six  blows  with  his 
hand  on  his  bottom  or  hip  —  and  before  I  had  time  to 
proceed  any  further  the  said  Major  Blake  came  in  and 
brought  a  witness  with  him  who  see  the  whole  of  the  sd 
assault  and  Battery,  who  was  sworn  to  testifie  the  whole 
truth  and  nothing  but  the  truth  —  and  after  duly  attending 
to  the  evidence  and  there  allegations  I  give  it  as  my  judg- 
ment that  the  ofifense  is  so  great  that  the  fine  ought  to  be 
more  than  a  single  Justice  ought  to  decide  upon  and  that 
the  said  Forbes  be  bound  over  to  the  next  Court  of  Com- 
mon Pleas  in  the  county  of  Worcester  on  the  sum  of  fifty 
dollars  with  two  sureties  in  the  sum  of  twenty -five  dollars 
each,  and  in  the  meantime  to  be  of  good  behavior  towards 
all  the  citizens  of  this  Commonwealth  and  more  especially 
towards  sd  Blake."  Barnum  Blake  occupied  N.  M.  Knovvl- 
ton's  farm,  having  built  the  "house  now  standing.  Joseph 
Forbes  lived  in  the  same  neighborhood. 


LEGAL    PRACTICES. 


125 


The  old  Indian,  Gigger,  in  1812,  was  brought  up  for  as- 
saulting James  Dunton.  It  might  have  gone  hard  with  the 
said  James,  had  not  his  wife  come  to  the  rescue.  One  of 
the  witnesses  testified  that  she  saw  Dunton  and  Gigger  "a 
rooling  about  in  the  Snow  like  a  Cooppel  of  Boolfrogs." 
Gigger  was  fined  two  dollars. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  and  well-known  differences 
in  the  way  a  man  left  his  property  is  the  provision  made 
for  the  widow.  The  will  of  Ebenezer  Maynard,  dated  in 
1798,  is  very  much  like  those  usually  made  by  a  husband 
a  hundred  years  ago. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  the  will :  — 

"  To  my  well-beloved  wife  Sarah  Maynard,  Two  Guineas 
and  all  the  Household  Goods  and  Effects  which  she  brought 
with  her,  and  one  half  of  all  the  Lineng  that  may  be  in  the 
House  at  my  Decease  and  one  cow  to  be  at  her  disposal  for- 
ever. 

"  Item.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  said  wife  the  west 
part  of  my  now  dwelling-house  and  half  the  Seller  and 
chamber  and  also  the  privilege  of  passing  and  repassing  to 
the  Barn  well  and  orchard  for  to  get  apples  and  all  Sorts  of 
Green  Sauce  as  She  may  need  for  her  use  as  long  as,  she 
shall  remain  my  widdow — also  a  horse  for  her  to  ride  as  she 
may  have  occasion  during  sd  term. 

"  I   give    and    bequeath  to    my  said    wife    annually  eight 


126  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

bushels  of  Indian  corn  or  meal,  Two  bushels  of  Rye  Meal 
One  hundred  weight  of  pork,  fifty  w*  of  Beef  One  Barrel  of 
cyder,  half  a  bushel  of  malt  and  one  bushel  of  Turnips  and 

one  of (  ?)  Two  pair  of  Shoes  and  the  keeping  of  one 

cow  both  summer  and  winter,  also  a  sufficient  quantity  of 
firewood  for  one  fire,  also  Ten  pounds  of  Flax  and  four 
pounds  of  wool  So  long  as  she  remains  my  widdow,  and  the 
said  articles  are  all  to  be  delivered  to  her  at  my  said  Dwell- 
ing House  by  my  executor  and  he  is  to  give  her  a  Decent 
Christian  burial  if  she  dies  my  widdow." 

Many  of  the  farmers  had  "  bound  boys,"  whom  they  took 
as  little  children,  supported,  clothed,  and  taught  their 
"  mystery  "  until  the  boys  became  of  age.  The  Justice  of 
Peace  drew  up  an  indenture  which  the  farmer  and  baby 
(through  the  selectmen)  pledged  themselves  to  fulfil.  One 
such,  written  by  James  Hawes,  is  here  given :  — 

"  THIS  INDENTURE    WITNESSETH 

"That  Stephen  Maynard,  Aaron  Warren,  Seth  Morse  and 
Joseph  Harrington  of  Westborough,  In  the  County  of  Wor- 
cester Gentlemen  Selectmen  of  sd  Westborough  hath  put  a 
poor  child,  belonging  to  sd  town  of  Westboro  and  of  their 
own  free  will  &  accord,  and  with  the  consent  of  two  Justices 
of  the  Peace  who  have  subscribed  hereunto  Doth  by  these 
Presents  Voluntarily  put  &  bind  Artimus  Pratt  to  be  an 


LEGAL    PRACTICES.  I2j 

Apprentice  unto  Joseph  carryl  of  Hubbardston  &  county 
aforesaid  Husbandman  and  Elizabeth  his  wife  &  their  to 
learn  his  art  Trade  or  Mystery  and  with  him  the  said  Joseph 
carryl  &  Elizabeth  his  wife  and  their  Heirs  after  the  manner 
of  an  apprentice  to  Dwell  and  Serve  from  the  Day  of  the 
Date  hereof:  for  and  During  the  full  and  Just  Term  of 
Eighteen  years,  Eight  months  &  Twelve  Day  Next  ensuing 
&  fully  to  be  compleat  &  ended.  During  all  which  Said 
Term,  the  said  apprentice  his  said  Master  &  Mistress  Hon- 
estly &  faithfully  shall  Serve,  their  Secrets  keep  close,  their 
Lawfull  and  Reasonable  commands  everywhear  gladly  do 
&  perform,  he  shall  do  no  Damage  to  his  sd  Master  or  Mis- 
tress nor  any  hurt  to  their  good  willfully  nor  wast  embezel 
nor  purlone  'or  lend  them  unto  others  nor  suffer  the  Same  to 
be  wasted  or  purloned  or  lent:  but  to  the  uttomost  of  his 
powers  Shall  forthwith  discover  &  make  the  sd  known 
unto  his  sd  Master  or  Mistress.  Taverns  or  ale-houses  he 
shall  not  frequent  at  cards  dice  or  any  other  unlawfull  games 
he  shall  not  play.  Fornication  he  shall  not  commit,  nor 
Matrimony  contract  with  any  person  during  sd  Term,  from 
his  Master  or  Mistresses  Service  he  shall  not  be  at  any  time 
unlawfully  absent  himself:  but  in  all  Things  as  a  good,  hon- 
est and  faithful  Servant  &  apprentice  Shall  bear  and  behave 
himself.  Towards  his  sd  Master  &  Mistress  and  their  Heirs 
during  the  full  Term  of  Eighteen  Years,  Eight  months  & 


128  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

Twelve  Days  commencing  as  aforesaid,  and  the  sd  Joseph 
carryl  for  himself  and  Elizabeth  his  wife  &  their  Heirs :  do 
covenant  promis  grant  &  agree  with  them  the  abovesaid 
Selectmen  of  Westborough  &  with  him  the  sd  apprentice 
in  manner  &  form  following  that  is  to  say  :  That  he  will  teach 
the  apprentice  or  cause  him  to  be  taught,  by  the  best  ways 
or  means  that  he  may  or  can  the  Trade  Art  Mystery  of  Hus- 
bandman and  to  Read  Write  and  cypher  to  the  rule  of  Three 
if  the  said  apprentice  be  capable  to  learn  :  and  will  find  and 
provide  for  him  the  said  apprentice  Good  and  sufficient 
Meat,  drink  Lodging  washing  &  Apparrel  boath  in  Sickness 
%L  in  health :  fitted  for  an  apprentice  during  sd  Term  and  at 
the  end  of  sd  Term  to  dismiss  sd  apprentice  with  Two  good 
suits  of  Apparrel  both  woolen  and  linning  for  all  parts  of  his 
body  one  for  Lord's  Day  &  the  other  for  working  Days, 
also  one  good  great  coat.  In  Witness  whereof  the  sd  Parties 
to  these  Present  Indentures  have  Interchangeably  Set  their 
hands  &  Seals  this  Seventeenth  Day  of  December  One 
Thousand  Seven  Hundred  &  Eighty  Two  and  in  the  Seventh 
Year  of  the  Independence  of  America. 

"  Signed  Sealed  & 
Delivered  in 
presence  of." 

Perhaps  some  of  the   young  men  of  the  town  who   had 
more  than  once  paid  their  fine  to  Justice  Hawes,  for  some 


LEGAL    PRACTICES.  I2g 

slight  offence,  felt  a  good  deal  of  satisfaction,  when,  in  1785, 
His  Honor  was  brought  up  before  the  church,  to  explain 
some  matters  of  his  own.  The  selectmen  of  the  town  had  a 
power  of  attorney  to  settle  the  business  affairs  of  Adonijah 
Rice.  Dr.  Hawes,  his  former  attorney,  paid  a  note  for  him. 
The  selectmen,  calling  upon  him,  asked  him  if  he  had  "  paid 
the  full  amount  seen  on  his  account."  He  answered,  "  every 
copper."  -  "  What,  no  abatement?  "  —  "  Not  one  farthing," 
answered  the  doctor.  But  Dr.  Daniel  Brigham,  to  whom  the 
bill  was  paid,  claimed  to  have  received  only  thirty  shillings, 
where  fifty  shillings,  ten  pence  were  due.  The  church  had 
several  meetings  discussing  the  question  of  Deacon  Hawes' 
veracity,  but  none  of  his  explanations  or  apologies  seemed 
to  satisfy  them.  They  finally  appointed  a  committee  of  three 
"to  make  some  proposal  to  D.  Hawes  what  he  ought  to  con- 
fess in  order  for  the  chh's  satysfaction." 

After  half  an  hour's  adjournment,  they  heard  Dr.   Hawes' 
acknowledgment  as  follows  :  — 


"  To  the  Chh.  of  Christ  in  Westborough, 

"  BELOVED  BRETHREN,  —  Knowing  there  is  uneasiness  among  the 
brethren  Concerning  my  conduct  while  transacting  business  in  behalf  of 
Adonijah  Rice  with  the  Selectmen  in  which  I  have  been  supposed  by 
many  to  have  Transgressed  the  Truth.  —  I  acknowledge  myself  out  of 
ye  way  in  Answering  the  Selectmen,  when  asked  by  them  whether  I  had 
paid  the  full  face  of  a  note  ag'  said  Rice's  estate  in  favor  of  Doct.  Daniel 


1T>0  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

Brigham,  to  which  I  hastily  replied  in  the  affirmative,  whereas  ye  circum- 
stances demanded  a  Negative  on  account  of  which  affirmative  I  gave  ye 
Selectmen  just  reason  to  suspect  my  Veracity,  have  exposed  myself  to 
your  Christian  Resentment,  am  sorry  therefore  and  now  ask  your  forgive- 
ness and  charity. 

"  JAMES  HAWES. 
4<  which  is  put  on  file." 


Looking  over  a  pile  of  old  writs,  we  catch  a  glimpse  of 
another  side  of  the  versatile  doctor's  character,  by  finding 
written  on  the  back  of  one  of  them  these  lines :  — 

"  To  Miss  Caty  Hill 
This  'wish  I  do  will. 

"As  you  have  long  tarried 
I  wish  you  well-married. 
A  husband  I  wish  you, 
To  love  and  to  kiss  you. 
And  you  must  forever, 
Love  him  and  be  clever." 

*  Miss  Caty  Hill  "tarried"  until  she  was  thirty-one,  at 
which  age,  in  1798,  she  became  the  wife  of  a  widower,  Mr. 
Abner  Warren.  She  had  five  children,  —  Mrs.  Austin  Har- 
rington being  one  of  them.  She  was  a  niece  of  Dr.  Hawes' 
wife,  and  before  her  marriage  made  her  home  with  them. 
She  was  a  great  favorite  with  the  doctor,  and  her  children 


LEGAL    PRACTICES.  131 

remember  his  walking  up  to  their  house  —  where  Mrs.  Har- 
rington now  lives  —  after  his  hair  was  silvery  white,  and  his 
step  feeble,  to  see  "  Caty,"  and  sitting  by  the  hour  together, 
reading  to  them  the  interesting  books  which  had  come  in 
his  way,  —  among  others  "  The  Dairymaid's  Daughter  "  and 
"  Parley,  the  Porter." 


132 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

PHANTOMS    AND     REALITIES. 

IFE  was  less  realistic  a  century  ago.  Real  fears 
and  dangers  had  given  place  to  many  imaginary 
ones.  Men,  as  well  as  women,  sought  for  signs  to 
guide  them  in  their  work,  and  found  them  in  every  freak  of 
nature  or  unusual  accident. 

The  young  girls  were  most  interested  in  signs  of  marriage, 
seeking  to  have  their  fortunes  told  by  hand  or  tea-cup,  hang- 
ing the  wish-bone  over  the  outside  door,  in  the  belief  that 
the  man  first  entering  afterwards  was  to  be  the  husband  of 
her  who  had  hung  the  bone,  and  usually  realizing  the  desired 
fortune,  and  becoming,  at  an  early  age,  a  hard-working 
farmer's  wife. 

A  severe  illness  was  often  foretold  by  some  member  of  the 
family  seeing  a  mysterious  light  in  the  house. 

There  were  many  signs  of  death  :  breaking  a  mirror,  hear- 
ing a  dog  bark  under  the  window,  or  a  knock  at  the  door, 
when  there  was  no  one  outside,  having  a  bird  fly  against  the 
glass,  seeing  a  phantom  chaise  and  white  horse  drive  into 


/'//.  I.V7YA1AV    AXD   REALITIES. 

the  yard  and  silently  drive  away  again,  —  these,  and  many 
others,  occurred  frequently,  and  caused  gloomy  forebodings 
in  every  heart.  In  these  cases  it  was  not  known  who  was  to 
die ;  but  there  was  a  common  occurrence,  called  an  appa- 
rition, which  indicated  which  member  of  the  family  it  was  to 
be.  These  apparitions  took  the  form  of  the  person  himself, 
dressed  as  he  was  to  be  when  death  found  him.  Such  a 
forerunner  was  seen  in  the  meadow  east  of  the  old  parson- 
age, near  Powder  hill,  a  little  time  before  the  death  of  the 
wife  of  John  Beeton.  Her  daughter  was  in  the  field  and  saw 
her  mother  among  the  bushes,  dressed  in  her  every-day 
print  dress,  her  cap,  and  with  handkerchief  crossed  on  her 
breast.  She  started  to  speak  to  her,  when  she  suddenly  dis- 
appeared. 

Another  case  of  the  same  sort  occurred  on  Brigham  hill, 
in  Grafton.  This  was  just  before  the  war  of  1758.  Daniel 
Brigham,  a  young  man  of  twenty-three,  was  drafted  into  the 
army,  and  the  most  strenuous  efforts  of  the  family  failed  to 
procure  a  substitute.  Just  before  leaving  home,  as  he  was 
going  up  the  road  for  the  cattle,  late  one  afternoon,  he  was 
startled  by  seeing  before  him  a  man  wrapped  in  an  Indian 
blanket.  He  recognized  the  figure  and  face  of  the  man  as 
his  own.  It  disappeared.  His  brother,  standing  in  the 
doorway  of  the  old  house,  also  saw  the  form.  He  went  to 
the  war  with  the  conviction  that  he  should  never  return. 


134 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


A  few  weeks  after,  he  fell  ill  of  a  fever,  at  Crown  Point. 
When  near  the  point  of  death,  an  Englishman  found  him 
attended  by  a  friendly  Indian,  and  wrapped  in  an  Indian 
blanket.  Afterwards  the  Englishman  brought  back  to  Graf- 
ton  this  account  of  the  realization  of  their  fears. 

The  exact  spot  where  this  apparition  was  seen  has  for  many 


generations  been  pointed  out  to  the  children  of  the  family. 
It  is  not  far  beyond  the  Brigham  homestead,  now  owned  by 
Mr.  E.  A.  Brigham,  on  the  "  old  road,"  just  after  passing  the 
"dry  bridge." 

The  belief  in  ghosts  was  nearly  universal.  It  was  sup- 
posed that  the  spirits  of  persons  who  had  been  murdered 
were  most  apt  to  lie  uneasy  in  their  graves.  As  late  as 
1815  the  majority  believed  that  a  house  now  standing  on  the 
Southborough  road  was  haunted.  It  is  a  small  red  house  on 


PHANTOMS  AND   REALITIES.  j^c 

the  left-hand  side,  a  short  distance  after  the  division  of  the 
Marlborough  and  Southborough  roads. 

A  man  from  Grafton,  named  Flagg,  was  returning  from  the 
Revolution,  with  his  pay  tied  up  in  a  handkerchief,  —  it  was 
about  five  hundred  dollars.  He  stopped  at  this  house  to 
inquire  the  way  to  Northborough,  and  the  occupant  offered 
to  show  him  a  short  cut  across  the  fields.  They  started  off 
together,  but  Flagg  was  never  again  seen. 

At  the  time  of  the  hurricane  in  1815,  there  was  blown 
down  a  large  white  oak  in  a  woodland  on  the  west  side  of 
the  road  leading  by  the  house  of  Jonas  Fay  to  Marlborough, 
near  the  boundary  line  between  Southborough  and  Marl- 
borough.  Entangled  with  the  roots  was  found  the  skeleton 
of  a  man.  Mrs.  Flagg  —  whose  first  husband  was  acciden- 
tally killed  at  a  muster  on  South  street  —  went,  among  others, 
to  see  the  bones.  She  identified  them  as  those  of  her  sec- 
ond husband,  partly  by  his  having  "  double  teeth  all  around," 
and  partly  by  the  mark  left  on  the  bone  of  his  leg,  by  a 
bone-sore. 

The  house,  in  the  mean  time,  had  been  deserted.  The 
former  occupant  built  himself  a  new  house  near  by.  No 
other  would  stay  in  the  house,  —  steps  were  heard  ap- 
proaching, the  tall  shovel  and  tongs  in  the  fireplace  fell  in 
the  night,  strange  noises  were  heard,  and,  more  conclusive 
than  anything  else,  a  light,  like  the  light  of  a  candle,  was 


!36  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

seen  night  after  night  moving  about  on  the  neighboring  hill, 
on  the  spot  where  afterwards  the  white  oak  was  uprooted. 

Deacon  Peter  Fay,  in  his  sketches  of  Southborough,  has 
given  an  account  of  the  light,  and  of  an  investigation  made 
by  a  number  of  men  and  boys,  including  himself,  who  decided 
that  it  was  a  star,  gave  three  cheers  for  the  ghost  and  went 
home.  But  a  lady  about  eighty  years  of  age,  being  recently 
asked  what  she  really  thought  caused  the  light,  gave  the 
more  common  belief  of  the  day  when  she  answered  :  — 

"Why,  you  know  murder  will  be  brought  to  light.  It 
was  the  Lord." 

Mrs.  Whitney,  a  lady  of  ninety,  now  living  in  Worcester, 
was  a  native  of  Westborough.  As  a  young  girl,  she  remem- 
bers hearing  the  subject  brought  up  anew,  and  thoroughly 
talked  over  by  the  good  people  of  the  town,  when  the  sus- 
pected murderer,  after  years  of  exemplary  life,  was  asked 
to  join  the  Baptist  church.  He  refused,  saying  that  he  had 
committed  a  sin  for  which  he  could  never  be  forgiven.  He 
seemed  to  live  under  a  cloud. 

There  is  a  hill  in  the  northen  part  of  Northborough  called 
"  Ghost  hill."  There  was  a  man  living  in  the  town  who  was 
heavily  in  debt  to  another.  One  night,  when  he  knew  his 
creditor  would  be  going  home,  he  dressed  himself  in  white, 
and  appearing  to  him,  told  him  in  a  sepulchral  voice  not  to 
enforce  his  claim.  The  man  was  dreadfully  frightened  and 


PHANTOMS  AND  REALITIES. 


137 


ran  home.  The  debtor  by  this  procedure  escaped  paying 
his  bill,  and  the  hill  where  the  event  occurred  received  its 
present  name. 

The  eighteenth  century  was  the  border-line  between  old 
and  new  superstitions.  There  was  many  a  farmer  who  would 
fasten  a  horseshoe  to  his  stable  door, 

•'  Lest  some  unseemly  hag  should  fit 
To  his  own  mouth  her  bridle-bit." 

On  the  old  barn  on  the  Andrews  place,  between  East 
Main  and  Lyman  streets,  the  hinges  are  fastened  into  horse- 
shoes, put  there,  perhaps,  to  protect  the  dumb  animals,  who, 
for  some  reason,  seem  to  have  been  favorite  victims  of  the 
witches'  art. 

The  belief  in  witchcraft  was  very  slow  to  disappear.  Peo- 
ple of  all  shades  of  belief  were  living  here  a  century  ago, 
from  those  having  a  firm  conviction  that  some  of  their  fel- 
low-men actually  made  a  compact  with  the  devil,  and  signed 
it  with  their  own  blood,  to  those  ridiculing  even  the  idea  of 
supernatural  gifts.  The  person  remembering  the  most 
stories  of  Westborough  witchcraft  is  the  oldest  living  de- 
scendant of  a  family  who  came  here  from  Salem. 

There  were  two  persons  supposed  to  be  in  league  with 
the  Evil  One  living  here  part  of  the  time  contemporaneously, 
whose  names  are  very  familiar  to  most  of  the  older  people 


138  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOU'.Y. 

now  in  town,  —  Tom  Cook  and  Ruth  Buck.  The  former  was 
well  known  in  all  the  towns  of  Massachusetts,  and  more  or 
less  throughout  New  England.  He  lived  in  the  house 
afterwards  occupied  by  Dr.  Hawes.  Among  the  deeds 
recorded  in  Worcester  is  one  from  Thomas  Forbush,  of 
Westborough,  to  Cornelius  Cook,  blacksmith,  who,  October 
20,  1/27,  had  married  Forbush's  youngest  daughter,  Eunice. 
This  deed,  for  four  pounds  and  five  shillings,  conveys  four 
acres  and  fourteen  rods  of  land  "  near  Cranbury  pond  with 
dwelling-house  thereon  where  said  Cornelius  Cook  doth  now 
dwell."  This  is  dated  December  26,  1732.  In  1750  Cook 
deeded  this  place,  with  house  and  barn,  to  Abijah  Bruce ;  but 
in  a  few  months  it  passed  into  the  hands  of  Jonas  Bradish, 
who  sold  it  to  Jonas  Rolf,  — the  last  owner  before  Dr.  Hawo>. 
Since  then,  for  more  than  a  hundred  years  it  has  been  in  pos- 
session of  his  family. 

Here,  October  6,  1738,  Tom  Cook  first  opened  his  inno- 
cent baby  eyes  on  the  world,  whose  wrongs,  in  his  own 
eccentric  way,  he  was  to  endeavor  to  right.  Here  he  lived, 
developing  his  own  personality,  and  by  his  sweet  baby 
prattle,  every  day  forcing  his  way  further  into  his  mother's 
heart.  When  about  three  years  old,  he  was  taken  very  ill. 
Mrs.  Cook  doubtless  received  the  deacons  and  listened  to 
their  prayers  over  her  sick  darling,  but  it  was  whispered 
among  the  women  at  the  next  Sunday's  service  that  the 


PHA.  \TOMS  AND   REALITIES. 


little  boy  was  getting  better,  in  answer  to  his  mother's 
wicked  prayer,  "Only  spare  his  life;  only  spare  his  life, 
and  I  care  not  what  he  becomes  !  " 

His  early  life  must  have  been  more  eventful  than  that  of 
many  of  the  farmers'  lads  in  his  vicinity.  His  father  was  a 
man  who  seemed  to  get  himself  very  easily  into  difficulty, 
and  when  once  before  the  church,  he  needed  committees  and 
energetic  personal  endeavor  to  "  restore  him  to  charity." 
When  Tom  was  about  six,  his  father  was  brought  before  the 
church,  and,  according  to  the  records,  he  read  a  paper  "  in 
which  he  hoped  he  was  truly  humble  and  sensible  of  his 
sin  in  profane  swearing  and  prayed  God  and  his  people  to 
forgive  him,  &c." 

After  reading  the  paper  he  was  asked  if  he  had  anything  to 
say  upon  it,  and  he  told  the  church  that  "he  doubted  whether 
he  was  in  a  state  of  Grace  at  the  time  of  his  taking  s(l  oath 
.and  was  in  doubt  whether  he  ought  to  take  it  ;  but  insisted 
that  he  was  not  guilty  of  taking  it  in  the  Manner  the  church 
had  understood,  it  was  in  no  Passion  &c.  but  as  well  as  he 
-could  in  the  fear  of  God,  even  act  of  worship  ;  but  as  all 
his  prayers,  public  attendance  &c.  were  then  profane,  so  was 
this  also,  and  he  could  not  judge  it  any  otherwise,  &c."  After 
some  debate,  the  Church  decided  that  this  confession  was 
unsatisfactory,  and  it  was  a  year  and  a  half  before  he 
succeeded  in  making  one  which  was  sufficient  to  restore  him 
to  fellowship. 


140 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


When  Tom  was  about  fifteen,  his  brothers,  Robert  and 
Stephen,  were  imprisoned  and  tried  for  killing  an  Indian  at 
Stockbridge. 

The  Cook  family  moved  to  Wrentham,  and  in  1770  Mrs. 
Cook  was  living  in  Douglass,  but  was  still  helped  by  the 
Westborough  church. 

That  the  Evil  One  sometimes  appeared,  was  a  common  be- 
lief, and  on  the  Brigham  farm,  on  Brigham  hill,  Grafton,  can 
still  be  seen  what  was  once  supposed  to  be  the  print  of  his 
foot  in  a  rock  behind  the  barn.  Tradition  does  not  say 
how,  or  where,  or  when,  Tom  entered  into  a  compact  with 
the  devil ;  but  in  some  way,  possibly  by  his  mother,  at  the 
time  of  his  illness,  he  was  pledged  to  serve  that  individual 
for  a  number  of  years,  receiving  abundant  help  in  return. 

The  last  year  rolled  away,  and  found  Tom  still  clinging 
to  this  life,  and  unwilling  to  enter  upon  any  other.  The 
devil  came  for  him  one  morning,  when  he  was  dressing 
for  another  active  day,  and  his  head  was  full  of  plans  for 
work.  Tom  had  learned  by  that  time  to  live  upon  his  wits. 
"  Wait,  wait,  wait,  can't  you  ?  "  he  said  to  his  visitor, 
"  until  I  get  my  galluses  on."  And  as  soon  as  the  latter 
had  signified  his  willingness  to  wait,  he  threw  the  suspenders 
into  the  fire  and  never  wore  them  again.  He  lived  many 
years  after  this. 

Mr.    Parkman,    forty-one    years    after    he    had    baptized 


PHANTOMS  AND   REALITIES,  I4I 

Eunice  Cook's  new  baby,  in  the  old  Wessonville  church, 
still  keeps  an  interest  in  him,  and  writes  in  his  journal  under 
date  of  August  27,  1779:  "The  notorious  Thorn.  Cook- 
came  in  (he  says)  on  Purpose  to  see  me.  I  gave  him  wl 
admon"  Instruction  and  Caution  I  could  —  I  beseech  God 
to  give  it  Force!  He  leaves  me  with  fair  Words — thankf. 
and  Promising." 

So  he  parted  from  the  old  minister,  leaving  him  to  admon- 
ish, instruct,  and  caution,  while  he,  in  his  own  way,  straight- 
ened out  the  injustices  of  the  world. 

Cook  was  called  a  very  attractive  man;  "of  medium  size, 
remarkably  agile  and  well  formed,  —  his  face  and  head  be- 
tokened unusual  intelligence.  His  eyes  were  his  most  striking 
feature,"  described  by  one  who  had  seen  him  as  "  of  deep  blue, 
the  most  piercing  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  most  kindly  eyes 
that  he  ever  saw."  Before  his  long  life  closed  he  bore  the 
scars  of  many  an  encounter ;  on  one  hand,  every  finger 
had  been  broken,  and  if  set  at  all,  generally  in  a  very  un- 
scientific manner.  In  some  way  the  various  bones  grew 
together,  and  Tom's  body  at  length  resembled  some  knotted, 
gnarled  old  tree.  With  children  he  was  a  great  favorite. 
His  pockets  were  always  filled  with  toys,  which  he  had 
stolen  for  their  amusement,  and  nothing  pleased  him  more 
than  to  relate  his  adventures  to  their  wondering  ears. 

Among  the  large  class  who  did  not  believe  in  his  league 


142 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


with  the  devil,  there  were  many  who  admired  his  shrewd- 
ness and  skill,  and,  in  a  certain  sense,  were  his  friends.  He 
was  called  a  thief;  now  he  is  usually  spoken  of  as  "  the 
honest  thief;  "  his  own  name  for  himself  was  "  the  lev- 
eller." He  spent  most  of  his  time  wandering  about  the 
country,  stealing  in  one  place  with  such  skill  and  boldness 
that  he  was  rarely  detected,  and  bestowing  his  booty  in 
another  with  an  equal  delicacy  and  kindliness.  He  was 
familiar  with  the  simple  habits  of  the  people,  and  knew  at 
what  hour  it  was  best  to  slip  into  the  well-to-do  farmer's 
kitchen,  to  quietly  abstract  the  pudding  from  the  "boiled 
pot,"  and,  carrying  it  in  its  steaming  bag  to  the  next  house, 
where  the  man  was  poorer  and  the  family  larger,  to  drop 
it  noiselessly  in  their  less  highly  favored  kettle. 

He  did  not  always  do  his  work  in  so  unobtrusive  a  man- 
ner. Many  of  his  acts  were  unpremeditated  and  done  in 
full  sight.  One  day  he  was  walking  along  the  country  road, 
and  saw  some  children  crying  because  they  were  hungry. 
Just  that  moment  there  passed  a  man  on  his  way  home 
from  the  corn-mill,  with  a  load  of  bags  of  grain.  Tom  took 
one  from  the  back  of  the  wagon,  and  quickening  his  pace,, 
walked  ahead  of  the  man,  and  gave  the  grain  to  the  chil- 
dren's mother.  The  man  saw  him,  but  did  not  think  of  its 
being  one  of  his  meal-bags,  until  he  reached  home  and  took 
an  account  of  stock. 


PHANTOMS   AND   REALITIES. 


143 


Another  time  he  went  into  a  house,  and  upstairs.  His 
object  this  time  was  to  procure  a  feather-bed  for  some  poor 
invalid  whose  slender  purse  forbade  the  purchase  of  such 
luxuries.  He  selected  the  best  the  house  afforded,  tied  it 
closely  in  a  sheet,  took  it  downstairs,  and  knocked  loudly  at 
the  front  door. 

"  Can  I  leave  this  bundle  here,  till  I  call  for  it  in  a  few 
days?  "  he  asked,  politely. 

The  woman  recognized  him,  but  not  the  bundle,  and 
preferred  to  have  him  carry  it  elsewhere.  So  he  took  it  up 
again  with  an  easy  conscience,  and  trudged  on. 

The  farmers  bore  his  oft-repeated  thefts,  with  but  few 
attempts  to  bring  him  to  justice.  Some  of  the  more  wealthy, 
who  naturally  would  have  been  his  chief  victims,  paid  him 
annually  a  sum,  which  exempted  them  from  his  depreda- 
tions, and  probably  nearly  equalled  in  value  what  Tom 
would  have  expected  in  the  practice  of  his  profession  to 
wrest  from  them. 

He  did  not  confine  his  depredations  to  houses,  but  patron- 
ized stores  as  well.  One  time,  after  he  had  broken  into  a 
shop  in  Woonsocket,  and  was  travelling  along  the  highway, 
he  heard  sleigh-bells  behind  him,  which  he  rightfully 
guessed  belonged  to  the  officers  sent  in  his  pursuit.  He 
jumped  a  wall,  went  to  a  haystack,  and  commenced  pull- 
ing hay  for  the  cattle.  The  officers  drove  up  and  stopped. 


144  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

"  Hullo,"  they  shouted ;  "  seen  a  man  running  past 
here?" 

"  Just  went  by,"  answered  Tom;  "you'll  overtake  him  in 
a  minute." 

As  soon  as  they  were  out  of  sight,  he  took  off  his  shoes, 
and  in  true  Indian  fashion  tied  them  on  with  the  toes  at  the 
heels,  and  tramped  over  the  snow  to  a  neighboring  swamp. 
The  officers  finally  returned,  and  saw  where  the  man  had 
come  from,  but  could  not  find  where  he  had  gone. 

Another  time  he  was  less  successful,  and  was  captured  by 
the  officers,  and  mounted  on  the  horse  behind  one  of  them, 
and  carried  along  towards  the  jail.  By  using  his  hands  skil- 
fully he  managed  to  tie  the  man,  unknown  to  him,  fast  to  his 
horse.  He  then  complained  that  he  was  tired  of  the  horse's 
hard  gait,  and  asked  permission  to  get  down  and  ride  on  the 
other.  This  was  granted  him,  and  once  seated  behind  the 
second  officer,  he  proceeded  quietly  to  tie  him  to  his  horse. 
This  accomplished,  he  jumped  down  and  disappeared  in  the 
woods,  probably  leaving  the  officers  in  firm  belief  that  their 
missing  prisoner  was  in  league  with  the  Evil  One,  who  had 
sent  unseen  hands  to  help  his  ally  in  distress. 

In  the  course  of  his  long  life  he  was  often  arrested.  At 
one  time  he  selected  a  meeting-house  in  one  of  the  towns  in 
this  vicinity  for  a  place  where  he  could  retire  after  a  success- 
ful raid,  and,  undisturbed,  look  over  his  booty,  and  develop 


PHANTOMS  AND  REALITIES.  l^ 

his  philanthropic  plans.  It  was  mistrusted  that  all  was  not 
right,  and  a  watch  was  set.  One  night,  Tom  appeared 
through  the  window,  seated  himself  in  one  of  the  capacious 
square  pews,  with  his  bag  by  his  side,  and  commenced  haul- 
ing out  his  plunder.  Each  article  he  laid  aside,  after  decid- 
ing on  whom  it  should  be  bestowed.  Then  came  a  bottle 
of  cider,  and  he  put  it  down  with  a  smack  of  satisfaction,  — 
"  Ah,  this  is  good  for  old  Tom."  —  "  Yes,"  cried  the  officer, 
springing  from  his  place  of  concealment,  "  and  this  is  good 
for  old  Tom."  And  he  arrested  him,  and  carried  him  to 
the  "  goal." 

But  a  time  came  when  more  imminent  danger  threatened 
Tom,  when  he  was  actually  brought  into  court,  and  heard  the 
awful  words  of  the  judge  :  "  And  I  therefore  sentence  you  to 
be  hanged  by  the  neck  until  you  are  dead,  dead,  dead." 

But  under  these  trying  circumstances  his  courage  did  not 
fail. 

"  I  shall  not  be  there  that  day,  day,  day,"  he  answered. 

And  when  the  day  for  his  execution  came,  he  had  man- 
aged in  some  way  to  break  through  bolt  and  bar,  and  the 
wondering  authorities  thought  "  best  not  to  look  him  up." 

Tom  never  acquired  wealth  for  himself,  and,  when  a  severe 
accident  to  his  leg,  together  with  advancing  old  age,  took 
away  his  agility,  his  means  of  a  livelihood  were  gone,  and 
he  settled  down  in  Westborough.  One  of  the  last  years  of 


146 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


his  life  he  spent  on  the  farm  of  Mr.  Levi  Bowman,  who 
boarded  the  town's  poor.  His  house  was  the  last  on  the  old 
Upton  road,  before  reaching  the  poor-farm.  Tom  spent  his 
winters  contentedly  under  shelter,  but  in  summer  he  wan- 
dered about,  and  finally,  when  nearly  ninety  years  of  age,  he 
ran  away  from  his  home  in  the  poor-house,  and  died  near 
Boston.  He  was  brought  back  here  for  burial,  and  at  an  ex- 
pense of  forty  dollars  was  finally  laid  to  rest. 

He  left  no  successor  to  go  on  with  his  cherished  work. 
He  had  at  one  time,  after  the  manner  of  the  Jew  Fagin,  taken 
a  young  apprentice  to  teach  him  his  trade.  One  evening  he 
gave  him  a  package  of  valuables  to  hide.  The  boy  went 
away  with  them,  and,  soon  returning,  told  Tom  that  he  had 
put  them  under  a  certain  large  stone.  When  he  fell  asleep, 
Tom  stole  out  and  removed  the  goods.  The  next  morning 
he  sent  the  boy  for  them,  who,  coming  back,  sadly  reported 
that  they  were  gone. 

"  You  must  have  been  telling  some  one  where  you  put 
them,"  said  Tom.  But  the  apprentice  honestly  declared  he 
had  told  no  one. 

"  But  you  did,"  said  Tom ;  "  you  told  me.  That  is  no 
way  to  do  business.  Keep  it  to  yourself." 

Of  Ruth  Buck's  ancestry  we  know  nothing,  nor  was  she 
associated  with  any  particular  locality.  The  Town  Records 
mention  her  first  in  1763,  about  seventy-one  years  before  her 


PHANTOMS  AND   REALITIES. 


death.  In  the  warrant  for  the  town-meeting,  May  9,  1/63, 
one  article  was,  "  To  see  what  ye  Town  will  do  with  respect 
to  Ruth  Buck,  which  ye  Selectmen  of  this  Town  have  sent  to 
Southboro',  for  y('  Selectmen  of  Southboro'  refuse  to  take  yc 
sd  Ruth  Buck  as  their  proper  charge."  They  "  voted  not  to 
stand  Toyal  (trial)  with  Southboro'  with  respect  to  Ruth 
Buck."  In  October  of  the  same  year,  Mr.  Samuel  Allen 
prayed  "  that  y('  Town  would  Relieve  Him  someway  or  other 
with  respect  to  Ruth  Buck  and  her  child,"  They  afterwards 
appropriated  money  for  her  support,  and  so  in  the  early 
days  of  her  unfortunate  motherhood  she  became  a  town 
charge. 

What  became  of  the  little  one  whose  babyhood  was  so 
overshadowed  with  trouble  and  want  we  do  not  know.  The 
fact  of  his  existence  faded  from  the  minds  of  most.  In 
1778  Ruth  appeared  before  the  church,  confessed  her  sin,  and 
was  "  admitted  into  full  communion."  Of  the  next  years  of 
her  life  we  know  nothing;  perhaps  they  were  the  best  years, 
spent  in  the  care  of  her  boy. 

Full  communion  with  the  church  did  not  mean  full  social 
fellowship  with  the  good  people  of  the  town.  It  is  not  long 
before  we  find  her  regarded  with  distrust,  though  still  going 
from  house  to  house,  following  her  profession  of  tailoress, 
looked  upon  with  fear  by  the  little  children,  and  by  many  of 
their  elders  as  a  social  outcast  and  witch. 


148 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


What  she  herself  thought  has  come  down  to  us  in  a  very 
negative  way.  Old  David  Fay,  a  rough,  eccentric  man, 
called  out  to  her  one  morning  as  she  was  passing  his 
house :  — 

"  Well,  Ruth,  they  say  you  are  a  witch." 

"  If  I'm  a  witch,"  she  answered,  as  she  trudged  on,  "  you 
are  the  devil." 

She  is  remembered  as  a  very  stout  woman,  with  large, 
strong  features.  Her  temper  was  uncertain,  and  many  a 
sharp  retort  came  from  her  lips.  It  was  a  bad  thing  to 
arouse  her  opposition,  and  feel  the  sting  of  her  venomous 
hate. 

She  always  wore  a  cap  or  handkerchief  on  her  head,  some- 
times of  white  material,  more  commonly  of  plaid.  Below  it 
was  seen  a  bit  of  the  lobe  of  each  ear,  with  a  little  gold  knob 
fastened  into  it.  She  was  never  seen  without  this  covering, 
and  it  was  said  and  believed  that  she  had  a  very  good  reason 
for  wearing  it.  One  day  she  had  asked  a  farmer  to  do  some 
ploughing  for  her.  His  refusal  displeased  her,  and  she 
angrily  said,  "  You  will  have  trouble  with  your  oxen  to-day." 
The  farmer  found  she  was  right;  the  usually  docile  beasts 
refused  to  move.  At  last,  feeling  sure  that  they  were  be- 
witched, he  resorted  to  the  usual  method  of  letting  out  the 
evil  spirit,  and  cut  off  the  tops  of  their  ears.  From  that 
time  dates  Ruth's  wearing  of  the  head  covering,  and  it  was 


PHANTOMS   AND   REALITIES. 


149 


generally  understood  that  the  few  who,  in  some  unguarded 
moment,  had  obtained  a  glimpse  beneath  it  had  seen  that 
her  ears  were  cropped. 

Across  her  throat  she  had  a  long  purple  mark,  which  she 
covered  with  a  handkerchief  crossed  in  front.  There  was  a 
farmer  living  in  Grafton  whose  sheep  one  day  showed  the 
familiar  and  unmistakable  signs  of  being  bewitched,  not  only 
by  their  erratic  actions,  but  even  more  by  the  blindness 
which  had  suddenly  come  upon  the  whole  flock.  At  last 
he  resorted  to  the  "  sharp  medicine  "  of  the  knife,  cutting 
the  throat  of  the  worst  one.  He  had  no  more  trouble  with 
them  ;  but,  until  her  death,  Ruth  was  marked  with  a  livid 
line  just  where  the  farmer's  knife  had  cut  the  bewitched  sheep. 

She  seems  to  have  oftener  used  her  uncanny  influence 
over  inanimate  things.  One  day  she  met  Mr.  Joseph  Bel- 
knap,  soon  after  he  had  started  from  his  farm  at  Rocklawn, 
to  "go  below,"  as  was  the  phrase  commonly  used  of  a 
trip  to  Boston,  with  a  large  number  of  eggs  for  the  market. 
She  asked  for  some;  but  he  refused  to  sell  them,  as  his  box 
was  even,  full,  and  closely  packed.  "  Well,  as  you  please," 
she  answered  ;  "  but  you  will  never  get  those  eggs  safe  to  the 
market." 

In  some  unaccountable  way,  near  the  end  of  his  long 
drive,  the  board  in  the  back  of  his  wagon  came  out,  and 
the  box  of  eggs  slid  to  the  ground.  Every  one  was  broken. 


lt)0  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

Another  time,  a  farmer,  against  whom  she  had  previously 
vowed  vengeance,  passed  her  as  he  was  carrying  a  load 
of  wood  to  the  school-house,  now  known  as  No.  2,  near 
the  H.  A.  Gilmore  farm.  She  told  him  he  would  never 
reach  there  safely  with  his  load.  She  passed  on,  but 
the  oxen  refused  to  move ;  he  took  off  part  of  the  load, 
but,  after  a  short  distance,  they  stopped  again.  This  was 
repeated,  until,  just  before  reaching  his  destination,  he 
threw  off  the  last  stick,  and  the  oxen,  starting  on  a  dead 
run,  rushed  by  the  school-house. 

There  were  innumerable  slight  annoyances  to  which  the 
good  woman  of  the  house  was  subjected,  against  whom 
Ruth  Buck  had  a  spite.  When  she  lighted  her  candles, 
she/ound  that  all  below  the  rim  of  the  old-fashioned  candle- 
stick was  gone ;  only  the  wick  was  left.  These  candlesticks 
were  made  with  a  long  socket,  which  held  more  than  half 
the  candle ;  a  small  slide  raised  or  lowered  at  will  made 
it  possible  to  burn  them  almost  the  entire  length.  She 
believed  the  witch  had  come  in  an  invisible  shape  and 
eaten  the  candles. 

Mrs.  Samuel  Grout  was  one  of  the  ladies  most  annoyed 
by  Ruth's  pranks :  her  bread  wouldn't  rise ;  it  refused  to 
bake,  no  matter  how  hot  the  oven  might  be ;  the  butter 
wouldn't  come,  and  many  other  things  went  wrong  in 
her  work.  One  day,  after  churning  for  a  long  time,  she 


PHANTOMS  AND   REALITIES.  I5I 

tried,  on  a  large  scale,  the  remedy  mentioned  by  Whittier 
in  his  New  England  Legend,  — 

"The  goodwife's  churn  no  more  refuses 
Its  wonted  culinary  uses, 
Until  with  heated  needle  burned, 
The  witch  has  to  her  place  returned,"  — 

and  dropped  a  hot  brick  into  the  offending  cream.  The 
butter  soon  came,  but  not  long  afterwards  a  neighbor  ran 
in  saying  that  Ruth  Buck  had  been  dreadfully  burned. 

Mrs.  Grout,  seeing  Ruth  soon  after  with  her  hand  in  a 
poultice,  asked  her  what  the  matter  was. 

11  You  know  what  is  the  matter,"  was  her  answer,  "  and 
you'll  find  yourself  well  paid." 

The  same  day,  one  of  Mr.  Grout's  cows  was  found 
with  a  broken  leg,  with  no  apparent  reason  for  the  accident. 

This  was  not  the  only  burn  that  Ruth  received.  One 
day  Mrs.  Beeman  was  very  much  troubled  with  the 
behavior  of  her  spinning-wheel.  It  refused  to  turn,  the 
thread  broke,  and  the  good-woman's  patience  was  well-nigh 
exhausted.  She  took  an  old  horseshoe,  heated  it  red-hot, 
and  laid  it  on  the  wheel.  Everything  went  smoothly 
after  that,  but  Ruth  bore  the  scar  for  many  a  day. 

This  woman,  so  the  farmers'  wives  thought,  had  the 
power  of  knowing  when  she  was  talked  about,  and  hearing 
what  was  said.  Perhaps  the  low  tones  they  thought  nec- 
essary to  use  when  telling  each  other  about  the  afflictions 


I  $  2  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

she  had  brought  upon  them,  may  account  in  part  for  the 
lasting  impression  of  curiosity  and  awe  which  her  character 
left  on  the  little  children  of  the  day,  now  most  of  them 
past  their  eightieth  year. 

One  day  she  was  trudging  up  a  long  hill  in  Upton,  when 
a  girl  named  Lackey  looked  out  from  one  of  the  windows 
of  a  house  on  top  of  the  hill,  and  saw  her  coming. 
"  Oh  dear,"  she  said  to  her  mother,  "  here  comes  Ruth 
Buck.  I  hope  she  isn't  coming  to  stay." 

Ruth  came  on,  made  a  pleasant  call,  but  refused  all 
their  invitations  to  lay  aside  her  wraps.  When  she  stepped 
over  the  threshold  after  bidding  them  good-by,  her  ex- 
pression changed.  Looking  sharply  at  her  late  hostesses, 
she  said:  "Oh  dear,  here  comes  Ruth  Buck.  I  hope  she 
isn't  coming  to  stay.  Won't  you  take  off  your  things? 
I  don't  want  you  to  stay." 

She  went  off  repeating  these  words  to  herself. 

The  last  years  of  her  life  she  was  obliged,  to  a  great 
extent,  to  give  up  her  wandering  habits.  After  the  manner 
of  dealing  with  paupers  in  the  early  part  of  this  century, 
she  was  knocked  down  at  auction  to  the  person  offering 
to  board  her  for  the  least  sum,  and  so  fell  to  the  thrifty 
hospitality  of  John  Fay,  who  lived  about  two  miles  from 
the  station,  on  the  North  Grafton  road. 

She  finally,  in  1834,  at  the  age  of  ninety-two,  ended  her 
days  in  the  poor-house. 


PHANTOMS  AND   REALITIES.  ^3 

Since  her  day  there  has  been  no  one  in  town  invested 
with  her  peculiar  gifts. 

The  wife  of  Barechias  Morse,  who  lived  on  the  right- 
hand  side  of  the  road  from  Prentiss  Mills  to  Woodville, 
was  one  of  the  Framingham  Goddards.  Her  father,  about 
1745,  owned  a  young  slave  boy.  While  he  was  living 
at  Mr.  Goddard's,  things  began  to  go  wrong:  the  milk 
down  cellar  was  found  full  of  dirt ;  the  food  was  spoiled ; 
things  were  lost ;  books  were  torn ;  but  the  Bible,  the 
prayer-books,  and  the  hymn-books  were  never  touched. 
Mrs.  Goddard  was  fond  of  the  slave  boy,  but  at  last 
came  to  half  agree  with  her  husband  that  he  must  be  the 
cause  of  all  their  trouble,  and  consented  that  he  should 
be  tested  for  a  day,  by  tying  him  into  a  chair,  where  her 
eye  could  be  upon  him.  While  he  was  tied,  some  things 
in  a  bureau  drawer  near  the  place  where  Mrs.  Goddard 
was  sitting  suddenly  flew  into  the  fire. 

Mrs.  Goddard  then  begged  her  husband  not  to  suspect 
the  boy  longer,  for  he  had  always  been  a  good  lad. 

But  in  view  of  their  manifold  afflictions,  they  thought 
best  to  have  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer,  and  the  ministers 
from  all  the  neighboring  towns  —  Mr.  Parkman,  doubtless, 
among  the  number  —  met  at  Mr.  Goddard's  home,  to 
wrestle  against  this  unseen  power. 

After  that  day,  all  trouble  ceased. 


154 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


STEPHEN    MAYNARD   AND    SOME    OF    HIS    NEIGHBORS. 


|N  the  left-hand  side  of  the  road  to  Northborough, 
a  little  back  from  the  street,  stands  a  large,  square 
house,  even  now  in  its  old  age  looking  hale  and 
handsome.  It  is  occupied  by  B.  J.  Stone.  A  hundred 
years  ago  and  more,  it  was  the  mansion  of  Westborough's 
richest  man,  Capt.  Stephen  Maynard. 

This  house  he  built  himself  with  the  greatest  care.     He 


M  [WARD   AVD    SOME    OF   If  IS    XEH1/IBORS.        155 

spent  seven  years  in  selecting  the  timber,  and  all  the  work 
was  well  and  carefully  done.  It  is  known  that  he  built  it 
before  1772,  but  not  just  when.  His  eldest  child  was  born 
in  1743.  In  1757  his  wife,  Thankful,  died,  leaving  him 
with  six  children.  A  year  before  this,  Dr.  Samuel  Brigham, 
of  Marlborough,  had  died,  leaving  four  children.  Not  long 
after  his  wife's  death,  Captain  Maynard  married  Mrs. 
Brigham,  and  the  ten  children  played  together  on  the  large 
farm. 

He  kept  three  slaves,  —  a  man,  his  wife,  and  their  daugh- 
ter, the  latter  being  the  warm  friend  and  playfellow  of  his 
little  step-daughter,  Anne  Brigham.  The  heavy  walls  lead- 
ing up  the  avenue  to  the  house  were  built  by  this  slave  man, 
and  this  is  said  to  have  been  among  the  very  last  labor 
performed  by  slaves  in  Massachusetts. 

Although  a  man  "  of  quality,"  he  kept  open  house  for 
the  accommodation  of  travellers,  and  so  added  a  little  to 
his  income.  Nor  did  Mrs.  Anne  Maynard  intend  to  have 
this  a  losing  matter  to  him ;  and  one  day  when  three  or 
four  drunken  Indians  knocked  at  her  door  and  demanded 
food,  she  slipped  the  long  oven  poker  into  the  hot  coals, 
while  she  talked  with  them.  Finding  they  did  not  intend 
to  pay,  and  were  not  disposed  to  leave  peacefully,  she 
brought  out  her  red-hot  poker.  They  left. 

The  Town   Records    are    full    of    Stephen    Maynard    and 


156 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


his  doings.  He  was  a  stiff  Whig,  foremost  in  politics  in 
his  time,  selectman,  chief  officer  of  all  the  town's  militia, 
and  representative  in  the  General  Court.  It  is  less  easy  to 
get  records  of  his  social  and  family  life  than  of  his  public 
career. 

In  the  hope  of  opening  the  way  for  his  son,  Antipas,  to 
become  a  wealthy  man,  he  persuaded  Isaac  Davis,  of  Rut- 
land, to  settle  near  him,  and  teach  his  son  the  tanner's 
trade.  But  in  1772  the  young  tanner  had  won  the  heart 
of  Anne  Brigham,  and  they  commenced  housekeeping  for 
themselves,  Antipas  being  a  member  of  their  family.  One 
evening,  Mrs.  Davis  saw  him  leave  the  house,  and,  having 
a  presentiment  that  something  was  wrong,  she  took  a  light 
and  went  to  his  room. 

All  his  clothing  and  belongings  were  gone.  For  twelve 
years  nothing  was  heard  from  him ;  then  a  letter  came, 
saying  that  his  desire  to  travel,  for  which  he  could  not  get 
his  father's  consent,  had  led  him  to  leave.  He  had  been 
in  Spain  and  England,  and  finally  settled  in  the  Isle  of 
Guernsey,  in  the  tanner's  trade. 

Isaac  Davis  and  Anne  Brigham  became  the  ancestors  of 
a  large  family,  John  Davis,  the  governor,  being  one  of  their 
sons.  They  lived  the  early  part  of  their  married  life  in 
the  "  Broaders  house,"  the  last  house  on  the  left-hand 
side  of  the  Northborough  road,  before  crossing  the  Assabet. 


MAY. \.\Itn    AND    SOME    OF  HIS  NEIGHBORS. 


157 


Afterwards  Deacon  Davis  bought,  in  consideration  of  eigh- 
teen hundred  ounces  of  plated  silver,  the  place  now  known 
as  the  Davis  homestead,  and  owned  by  Mrs.  George  C. 
Davis.  Here  he  planted  the  beautiful  elms,  one  of  them 
owing  its  long  life  to  Governor  Davis'  love  of  trees.  It  is 


0Mtyl 


now  one  of  the  handsomest  in  the  group.  It  has  fastened 
into  it  a  ring  and  chain  for  hitching  horses.  The  old 
Davis  house  stood  a  little  nearer  the  road,  surrounded  by 
young  elms.  When  Mr.  Davis  was  making  some  repairs 
on  the  roof  of  the  L,  he  decided  to  cut  down  this  tree; 
but  his  son  John  begged  that  he  would  spare  it,  pledging 
himself  to  pay  for  all  the  shingles  spoilt  by  its  shade.  He, 


158  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWX. 

with  the  help  of  two  other  young  men,  bent  the  tree  over 
out  of  the  way  of  the  workmen  until  the  work  was  done. 
The  large  stone  before  the  front  door  of  Mrs.  Davis'  house 
was  the  hearthstone  in  the  old  house. 

This  house  was  the  one  originally  built  by  Isaac  Tomlin, 
one  of  the  first  deacons  of  the  Westborough  church. 

Isaac  Davis  is  to-day  remembered  as  "  large,  tall,  and 
stern ;  "  one  of  the  representative  men  of  his  time.  He 
outlived  Anne  Brigham  by  many  years,  and  was  twice 
married  after  her  death.  For  his  second  wife  he  married 
a  widow,  living  in  New  Hampshire.  She  had  bought  a 
barrel-churn  with  one  of  her  neighbors,  each  one  paying 
half  of  the  cost.  After  her  marriage  to  Mr.  Davis,  he  went 
to  call  on  this  neighbor  to  arrange  about  the  churn,  for  then, 
as  now,  there  was  no  law  to  which  they  could  appeal  for  a 
just  division  of  personal  property  owned  in  common.  He 
proposed  various  plans,  —  that  she  should  sell  him  her  share 
in  the  churn,  or  buy  his  wife's ;  but  nothing  pleased  her. 

At  last,  going  out  to  his  wagon,  he  came  back  with  a  saw, 
saying,  "  Talking  this  over  with  my  wife,  I  anticipated  this 
trouble,  and  came  prepared  for  it." 

He  quietly  sawed  the  churn  in  two,  and  with  the  remark, 
"  We  are  willing  to  give  you  the  largest  half,"  left  her  with 
the  side  having  the  crank. 

He  was  one  of  the  deacons   of  the  Northborough  church, 


MAYNARD   AND    SOME    OF  HIS  NEIGHBORS.        jijg 

respected,  honored,  and  venerated  as  one  worthy  to  hold  that 
position.  A  grandson  of  his  remembers  riding  to  church 
one  Sunday  on  his  knee,  and  seeing  a  gray  squirrel  bound 
across  the  road.  In  his  delight,  he  called  his  grandfather's 
attention  to  it,  and  received  from  the  stern  old  deacon  a 
sharp  twist  of  the  ear,  and  the  quick  reproof  that  "  squirrels 
are  not  to  be  mentioned  to-day." 

Stephen  Maynard  was  a  friend  of  Mr.  Parkman's,  and 
apparently  regarded  by  the  old  minister  with  much  favor. 
When  John  Beeton,  the  young  Scotch  blacksmith,  walked 
over  with  his  wife  from  Hopkinton,  with  bags  full  of  English 
coin,  to  buy  the  old  parsonage  and  farm,  Mr.  Parkman 
refused  to  sell  to  him.  Only  a  man  of  distinction,  he  said, 
should  buy  his  farm.  The  young  Scot  turned  away,  bided 
his  time,  met  Stephen  Maynard,  and  stated  the  case  to  him. 
Captain  Maynard  willingly  undertook  the  purchase  of  the 
farm,  and  Mr.  Parkman  felt  no  little  satisfaction  in  passing 
over  a  deed  to  him. 

In  giving  the  boundaries  of  the  farm  in  this  deed,  one  of 
the  localities  mentioned  is  Powder  hill.  This  name  is  very 
old.  In  1737  Mr.  Parkman  uses  it  in  his  journal.  The 
origin  of  the  name  has  been  preserved  by  a  tradition.  It  is 
said  that,  during  one  of  the  early  Indian  wars,  a  heavy  pow- 
der-wagon was  being  dragged  by  four  stout  horses  up  the 
hill,  when  one  of  the  kegs  of  powder  rolled  off,  the  head 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


came  out,  and  the  contents  were  scattered  over  the  ground. 
The  men  watched  in  dismay,  expecting  to  see  the  sparks 
from  the  iron  calks  of  the  horses'  shoes  ignite  the  powder, 
when  a  terrible  explosion  must  have  followed.  They, 
however,  passed  it  safely. 

Captain  Maynard.  within  a  few  days,  transferred  this 
deed  to  John  Beeton.  Mr.  Parkman  had  cut  some  wood 
north  of  the  house,  which  he  had  reserved  at  the  time 
of  the  sale,  but  forgot  to  stipulate  for  a  right  of  way 
thereto.  Soon  after  Mr.  Beeton  took  possession,  Mr.  Park- 
man sent  his  servants  with  cart  and  oxen  for  the  wood. 
The  new  owner  stood  at  the  great  gate  to  ask  what  this 
meant.  They  told  him  their  purpose.  "  You  go  back  to 
Mr.  Parkman  and  tell  him  only  a  man  of  distinction  can 
cross  MY  FARM,"  he  said.  Mr.  Parkman  himself  had  to 
ask  permission  to  get  the  wood. 

Afterwards  the  independent  young  Scot  and  the  distin- 
guished minister  became  good  friends,  and  many  a  time  the 
minister's  horse  was  fastened  in  front  of  the  old  parsonage, 
while  the  two  drank  their  home-brewed  beer  and  discussed 
the  advisability  of  written  or  extemporaneous  prayer  ;  for 
John  Beeton  was  a  Presbyterian,  and  Mr.  Parkman  adhered 
to  many  of  the  forms  of  the  Church  of  England. 

The  Beeton  family  occupied  the  old  parsonage  for  ninety 
years  or  more.  The  last  member  of  the  family  in  West- 


MA  YNA RD   A ND    S OME    O F  HIS  NE IG HBORS.       l  ft  r 

borough,  Miss  Jane  Beeton,  lived  here  through  her  early 
childhood.  Her  mother  was  a  daughter  of  Mr.  Amasa 
Maynard,  who  fed  Dr.  Ball  on  the  old  mare's  meat.  An- 
other daughter  of  his  ran  away  from  home  when  she  was 
fourteen,  and  married  a  Cook.  They  lived  in  Moultonbor- 
ough,  in  the  White  Mountains,  and  furnished  refreshments  for 
travellers,  who  called  her  "  the  old  woman  of  the  moun- 
tains." When  Miss  Martineau  was  in  this  country,  she  went 
to  their  house.  Mrs.  Cook  was  charmed  with  her,  and  wish- 
ing to  make  her  a  present,  she  took  from  her  store-room 
some  strings  of  dried  apple.  Miss  Martineau  received  the 
gift  very  prettily,  and,  like  the  heroine  of  Adelaide  Proctor's 
''Wayside  Inn," 

"  She  tied  it  to  her  saddle, 
With  a  ribbon  from  her  hair," 

and  so  rode  away. 

Amasa  Maynard  and  his  family  were  for  some  time  near 
neighbors  of  Stephen  Maynard,  living  awhile  in  the  Broaders 
house,  and  then  in  the  house  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
road,  which  has  lately  been  bought  by  the  Lyman  school, 
and  distinguished  with  an  addition  much  larger  than  the 
original  house.  On  this  place  a  thousand  of  Burgoyne's 
troops  were  quartered  for  a  night  while  on  their  march  to 
Boston  after  the  surrender. 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

One    of   Stephen   Maynard's   grocery  bills  is  still   in    ex- 
istence. 

It  begins  as  follows  :  — 

o 

"  Mr.  Stephen  Maynard  Dr.,  Westborough. 

"  To  Isaac  Forbush  &  Asaph  Warren  April  8,  1803. 

£.        s.      d. 

I  qt.  W.  I.  Rum          ...  10 

May  24.                 I  qt.  Molasses.  .          .  9 

i  Ib.  sugar.         .  9i 

\  Ib.  allspice       .          .  6 

June  12.                 I  qt.  W.  I.  Rum.         .          .  10 

£  doz.  Biscuit     ....  6 

July  22.                 2  Ib.  Shugar       .  i.     7 

Aug.  4.                 3i  pints  W.  I.  Rum    .  i.     6 

"     9.                 3<S  Ibs.  Sugar      .  2.     3 

"   10.                 3J  pints  W.  I.  Rum    .  i 

«   20.                 \  Ib.  Pigtail  Tobacco.          .  4 

Nov.  30.                i  qt.  W.  I.  Rum.         .  1 1 

Dec.  u.                i  Bushel  Coase  Salt   .  6.     6 

Feb'y  8.  1804.     I  Qt.  W.  I.  Rum         .  i. 

April  30.               ij  Ib.  Gotten      .  2.     3 

May  29.                To  Sundry  articles      .  3-3 

Sept.  8.                 i  pare  of  Shoes  6.     9 

Jan'y   12               3  pints  W.  I.  Rum      .  i.     6 

1805                      i  dozen  biscuits           .  i.     o 
&c." 


MAYNARD  AND    SOME    OF  HIS   NEIGHBORS. 


163 


These  biscuits  were  probably  the  kind  described  by  Pro- 
fessor Dwight  in  his  travels  in  New  England,  in  the  early 
part  of  this  century.  He  says,  "  The  white  bread  served  up 
at  tables  in  this  County  and  in  the  country  further  east, 
particularly  in  the  Inns,  is  made  in  the  form  of  large  biscuits, 
dry  and  hard,  but  agreeable  to  the  taste,  yet  inferior  to  the 
crackers,  made  in  the  country  farther  West." 

Stephen  Maynard  died  in  1806.  The  family  wore  mourn- 
ing, as  we  know  from  one  of  Parkman,  Tyler,  &  Parker's  bills. 
They  kept  the  largest  store  in  town,  —  dry-goods,  groceries, 
etc.  Parkman  was  Breck  Parkman,  a  son  of  the  minister. 
The  bill  is  as  follows :  — 

"  WESTBOROUGH  May  7.  1806. 

"  The  Estate  of  Stephen  Maynard,  late  deceased  to  Parkman, 
Tyler  &  Parker  —  Dr.  the  following  mourning  apparel  &c. 
To  6  yds.  cambrick  fa)  3/9       .          .          .          .          -3-75 

J/2  yd  Crape  gaws.  //..    .  .          .          .          .0.58 

Cotton  gloves          .          .          .          .          .          .          .  .58 

a  pair  shoes  ........        0.75 

2 1-  yds.  mourning  ribbon  fa)  6d.       ....  .23 

Sewing  silk  &  taste          .          .          .          .          .          .  15 

towards  the  bonnet,        ......  5 

3  pints  W.  I.  Rum, 38 

Loaf  sugar     ........  28 

6.75 " 


164 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


After  Captain  Maynard's  death,  there  was  an  auction  of 
his  personal  property.  The  list,  with  the  exception  of  farm- 
ing tools,  of  which  there  were  many,  is  as  follows :  — 

"  i  good  grate  coat  5-5° 

I  blue  strate  bad  coat  2.50 

I   Nancin  Wesket.  '75     i    old    Ditto,    17.    i    pair 

pantaloons  nankut  .50    .  .  i-52 

i  pair  Wollen  Ditto  .85.    i  Wollen  Frock,  90  1.74 

i  pair  Cotton  Shirts  3.00  old  great  coat.  .35  3-35 

i  hat  .85,1  pair  boots  i  .00  I  pair  shooes  Calf  kin.  80  3.64 
i  pair  old  shoes,  .20.-  . 

$16.88 

"Number  old  books,  50,  i  Brass  kittel  3.50.  i  Tea- 

kittel  66.  .  .  4-66 

I  cheese  basket  2  cheese  hoop,  35.  i  box,  35,  2 

pair  old  cans,  35.  .  I-°4 

i  old  half  bushel  2  half  peck  25.  i  powder-horn  10,  34 

3  milk  pans,  42.  i  old  warming  pan  25.  i  old 

lamb,  24  ..  92 

I  briddle  50,  I  great  chair  30,  9  old  chairs  1.85  .  3.04 
i  Bread  troath  2  Sieves  1.25,  4  old  pails,  I  fligen 

1.25  .  .  2-50 

i  grat  Wheel  i,  2  foot  wheels  old  2.00  i  pine  chest 

2  boxes  old   .  ....          5-00 


MAYNARD   AND    SOME    OF  HIS   NEIGHBORS. 


I65 


I  Canclel  stand,  12.  I  pine  tabel  i.oo,  I  old  trundel 

Bedsted           .          .          .          .          .          .          .  1.52 

I  Shugar  Box,  2  three  gimblets  25,2  hamer  old,  25,  50 

1  pair  Sheep  Shers  &  3  Whetstones,  2  old  fils         .  .85 

2  Sighs  &  Snath  2.00  2  old  hoes,  60                .         .'.  2.60 
I  Ct.  of  old  iron  34.  3  old  axes  75          .          .          .  152 
I  old  pilling  50     .......  50 

i  iron  pot  75,  I  dish  kittel  75,  I  Stue  pan,  .40        .  I  90 
Pear  of    tongs   1.25    i    pair  andirons  2. 20   i    tort- 

iorns  (?)  34.  3.79 

4  small  Grain  hooks  20,    I  tin  lantorn  35,        .          .  55 

1  pair   bellases  40,    i    churn    10,    I   tunel  2  wash- 

tubs  42, 158 

2  meet  tubs  &  Sope  3.50  5  Sider  Barrels  1.60          .  5.10 
i  Corn  basket  25.   2   plows   7.00   I  Wooling  Shod 

Shovel  50  V •.  7.74 

i  dung  fork  55.2  old  forks  &  I  old  Scekel  25  .  .80 
i  chest,  five  Draws,  5.00  i  pine  tabel  with  Draws, 

1. 10 6.10 

i  old  Chist  25.  3  small  Earthen  plats  30.  6  larger 

Ditto  30         .......  0.85 

5  Tea-cups  Sasers  35,1  small  mug  &  Bale   12,  tin 

Waire  17                  .          .          .          .          .          .  .64 

3  puter  platters   1.50,   3   puter  plats  50.   3  Basens 

old  and  poor  90     .          .          .          .          .          .  2.90 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


2  Glase  Bottols  35,  7  knives  &  forks  30,  I  Shugar 

Box  12  .......  77 

I  looking  glass  75,  I  male  bagg  80.  I  bedsted 

painted  75  ........  2.30 

I  Bed-cord  30       .......  3° 


41.11 


"  i  Bed,  2  Beding  indor  Bedsted  &  cord         .  .  13.00 

5  Coverlets  6.25   3  sheets  old  and  poor,  75.   .  .  7. 

4  piller  cases  Cotton  60.  I  table  Cloath  35     .  .  .94 

I  Bed  under  bod  bolster  &  two  pillers  &  Cord  .  3.00 


28.94 

"  A  right  in  the  Westborough  Library,           .          .  2.75 

2  books.        .                    .50 

2  Glass  tumblers  &  crocker  ware  .          .          .          .  .35 

2  old  towels  grater  &  pepper  box           .          .          .  23 

I  bed  quilt 2. 

I  puter  platter       ...  i. 

James  Hawes,  Jr.,  bought  the  warming-pan.  It  may  be 
the  one  still  hanging  in  Dr.  Hawes'  old  house.  His  clothes 
were  sold  to  his  old  neighbors.  The  house  passed  out  of 
the  hands  of  his  family. 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   NIPMUCKS.  1 67 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THE    LAST    OF   THE   NIPMUCKS. 

| HEN  first  visited  by  white  men,  almost  the  whole 
of  the  present  area  of  Westborough  was  a  wilder- 
ness. A  few  scattered  Indian  wigwams,  as  Jack 
Straw's  and  the  one  near  Chauncy,  were  the  residences  of 
Indians ;  but  the  nearest  Indian  village  was  at  Hassanamisco, 
—  six  miles  away,  —  now  known  as  Grafton.  Here,  in  1654, 
Eliot  came  and  commenced  his  labor  of  love  among  the  peo- 
ple. In  1671  he  established  here  his  second  mission  church. 
Nearly  all  the  town^  of  "  praying  Indians  "  were  provided 
with  teachers  from  Hassanamisco.  In  1674,  Eliot,  with  his 
distinguished  friend,  Gen.  Daniel  Gookin,  visited  all  the 
praying  Indians  of  the  Nipmuck  country;  and  General 
Gookin  wrote  a  description  of  them,  which  has  been  re- 
printed in  the  first  volume  o.f  the  Massachusetts  Historical 
Collection.  At  that  time  there  were  about  sixty  persons  in 
the  town.  Wattascompanum  lived  here,  the  chief  ruler  of 
the  whole  Nipmuck  country.  His  English  name  was  Cap- 
tain Tom. 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


Everything  looked  promising  and  hopeful  for  the  forma- 
tion and  continuance  of  a  Christian  village,  when,  in  1675, 
King  Philip's  war  broke  out.  These  Christian  Indians  had 
to  choose  between  their  new  friends  and  those  nearest  to 
them  by  ties  of  blood.  We  can  hardly  wonder  that 
many  of  them  forsook  the  newer  obligation  and  joined 
Philip,  —  some  finally  returning  to  the  English,  others  taken 
fighting  with  the  enemy.  Among  these  latter,  it  was 
claimed,  was  that  "grave  and  pious  man,"  Wattascompanum, 
who,  a  few  months  later,  was  executed  in  Boston,  in  spite  of 
insufficient  testimony.  "  On  the  ladder,"  Eliot  says,  in  an 
account  of  his  death,  "he  lifted  up  his  hands  and  said,  'I 
never  did  lift  up  my  hands  against  the  English,  nor  was  I  at 
Sudbury,  only  I  was  willing  to  go  away  with  the  enemies 
that  surprised  us.'  When  the  ladder  was  turned,  he  lifted 
up  his  hands  to  heaven,  and  so  held  them  till  strength  failed,, 
and  they  by  degrees  sunk  down." 

During  the  war,  a  battle  was  fought  on  Keith  hill,  very 
near  the  farm-house  now  owned  by  Mr.  David  L.  Fiske.  It 
was  supposed  that  there  were  about  forty  Indians  who  took 
part  in  this  fight.  They  carried  their  own  dead  away  with 
them.  When  Captain  Henchman,  in  the  morning,  returned 
to  the  battle-field,  he  found  the  heads  of  two  of  his  men, 
facing  each  other,  on  crotched  poles,  before  the  wigwam 
door.  About  seventy  years  ago,  the  graves  of  these  two- 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   NIPMUCKS. 


169 


men  were  still  visible,  and  were  marked  by  stones.  Mr. 
Keith,  then  living  there,  had  the  stones  taken  up  and  put 
in  the  wall  on  the  east  side  of  the  field,  saying  it  was  no 
worse  to  have  "  corn  growing  over  their  bones  than  stones 
on  top  of  them." 

For  a  time  Hassanamisco  was  nearly  deserted,  but  grad- 
ually the  Indians  came  back  to  their  old  homes,  and  in 
1698  five  families  had  returned.  The  first  land  owned  by  a 
white  man  in  Grafton  was  that  part  of  the  "Farms  District" 
which  Netus,  in  1665,  "  with  the  consent  of  the  Indians  at 
Nep-nap,"  transferred  to  Elijah  Corlett,  the  teacher  of  the 
Cambridge  grammar  school,  in  payment  for  his  son's  educa- 
tion. This  land  is  described  as  being  "  at  the  north  end  of 
Nep-nap  hill,  being  about  three  miles  distant,  northerly,  from 
the  Indian  plantation."  This  same  farm  was  afterwards  sold 
to  Peter  Goulding,  of  Sudbury,  "  for  one  negro  wench  called 
Nanny,  delivered  at  £25.10,  and  £10.  in  money." 

In  1728  the  whole  town  was  purchased  by  the  English  for 
twenty-five  hundred  pounds.  This  money  was  not  paid  di- 
rectly to  the  Indians,  but  to  trustees  appointed  by  the  Gen- 
eral Court,  who  were  to  invest  it  as  a  permanent  fund,  and 
pay  out  the  interest  to  the  original  proprietors.  Each  Indian 
proprietor  had  an  allotment  of  land  equal  to  that  given  to 
each  white  proprietor,  and  one  hundred  acres  common  land 
in  addition. 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


Until  1772  the  interest  on  the  original  fund,  much  reduced 
by  the  change  in  currency,  was  paid  to  the  Indians.  Then 
petitions  began  to  come  in  from  them  complaining  that 
they  failed  to  receive  the  money. 

Ten  years  later,  Joseph  Aaron  and  others  complained 
that  for  seven  years  they  had  not  received  a  quarter  of  their 
interest.  In  reading  the  General  Court  Records,  his  name  is 
the  first  we  meet  of  the  old  Hassanamiscoes  remembered  by 
persons  now  living.  He  was  a  soldier  in  the  Revolution.  In 
the  early  part  of  this  century  he  was  living  in  the  swamp, 
half  a  mile  this  side  of  B.  A.  Nourse's  present  house,  —  a  full- 
blooded  Indian,  with  long,  straight  hair.  He  lived  alone, 
weaving  his  baskets,  wandering  into  the  houses  and  barns  of 
his  white  neighbors,  and  quoting  scraps  of  Scripture,  right,  or 
oftener  wrong.  Sitting  in  the  old  Nourse  barn  one  day,  he 
commenced,  "If  sinners  entice  thee,  consent  thou."  Mr. 
Nourse  —  father  of  Mr.  David  Nourse,  now  living  in  his 
ninety-second  year  —  corrected  the  quotation.  Old  Jo 
threw  back  his  head  with  a  hearty  laugh,  "  Well,"  he  an- 
swered, "  you  can't  expect  me  to  remember  the  whole 
Bible." 

From  that  time  to  this,  some  remnants  of  the  tribe  have 
remained  in  their  old  home,  still  praying  for  the  money 
which  is  their  just  due.  In  1841,  when  a  new  trustee  was 
appointed,  it  was  found  there  were  no  funds.  In  a  report 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   NIPMUCKS. 


171 


made  in  1861  to  the  Governor  and  Council  by  John  Milton 
Earle,  special  commissioner,  he  says :  "  The  State  in  its 
sovereign  capacity  took  their  property  into  its  keeping,  and 
has  suffered  it  to  be  squandered  or  lost."  From  time  to 
time  small  sums  of  money  have  been  granted  them,  but  the 
whole  together  amounts  to  but  a  small  part  of  what  they 
should  have  received. 

In  the  early  part  of  this  century  there  were  several  fami- 
lies of  Hassanamiscoes  living  in  this  vicinity,  —  one  family,  at 
least,  in  Westborough,  that  of  old  Andrew  Brown.  He  lived, 
with  his  wife  and  children,  on  the  Flanders  road,  near  the 
Beeman  farm,  and  later,  on  the  cross-road  which  turns  to  the 
right  just  before  reaching  the  hospital. 

His  wife  was  Hannah  Thomas,  daughter  of  Mary  and 
James  Thomas,  of  pure  Hassanamisco  descent.  They  had 
four  children :  Andrew  Comache,  Elizabeth,  Lucinda,  and 
their  famous  daughter,  Deb.  Like  all  the  Indians,  he  and 
his  family  spent  their  time  making  baskets,  and  drinking  up 
the  profits  from  the  sale  of  them.  He  was  a  tall  Indian, 
with  straight,  black  hair,  and  had  served  in  the  Revolution, 
receiving  there  a  wound  which  made  him  lame  for  life. 
During  the  war,  his  wife  and  daughter,  then  a  small  child, 
followed  the  army,  and  had  many  adventures  with  rattle- 
snakes, catamounts,  and  other  wild  beasts. 

Once  when  some  people  were  passing  his  house,  they  saw 


Ij2  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

the  old  Indian  lying  under  a  tree  quite  drunk.  His  wife, 
standing  near,  looked  at  him  with  contempt:  "Poor  old 
Indian,"  she  said  ;  "  got  dhrunk  on  schwamp  water." 

The  daughter,  Deb,  was  for  many  years  a  celebrated 
tramp.  She  was  friend  and  travelling  companion  of  Sarah 
Boston,  of  Grafton  She  was  married  to  one  of  the  Grafton 
Indians  named  Pease,  who  treated  her  cruelly,  and  in  one  of 
their  quarrels  broke  her  hip.  She  was  always  lame  after 
this. 

One  day,  when  quite  old,  and  small,  and  wrinkled,  she  came 
to  Mr.  Beeman's  farm  on  the  Flanders  road,  holding  in  her 
hand  a  bottle  of  medicine,  which  some  considerate  old  lady 
had  given  her,  marked,  "Take  me  and  I'll  cure  you."  She 
was  on  her  way  to  the  poor-farm,  where,  a  few  days  after- 
wards, she  died.  She  left  two  daughters  ;  one  of  them,  Mrs. 
Robert  E.  Brown,  now  lives  in  Worcester,  and  has  in  her 
possession  a  daguerreotype  of  her  mother  taken  in  a  brightly 
flowered  gown,  deep  lace  collar,  and  large,  square  breast-pin. 
A  true  Indian,  she  joined  to  her  roving  disposition  a  love 
of  bright  colors,  which  she  always  wore. 

There  were  several  families  named  Gigger  (pronounced 
Jidger)  in  town,  they  being  of  mixed  Hassanamisco  descent. 
Josiah  Gigger,  who  was  brought  before  Justice  Hawes  in 
1812,  lived  on  a  cross-road  between  the  Southborough  and 
Flanders  roads,  on  the  farm  now  owned  by  Mr.  George  Har- 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   NIPMUCKS.  ^3 

rington.  He  married  Lucinda,  a  daughter  of  Andrew  Brown, 
and  left  a  large  family  of  children. 

More  persons  now  living  remember  Simon  Gigger.  He 
was  short  and  small,  living  first  in  a  swamp  towards  Shrews- 
bury, in  a  hut  built  of  stones,  the  walls  being  two  feet  thick 
at  the  base,  and  gradually  growing  narrower  at  the  top.  It 
sloped  from  the  bottom  to  the  ridge-pole ;  the  stones  were 
covered  with  sods  and  branches  of  trees.  In  the  top  was  a 
hole  to  let  out  the  smoke  from  the  wood-fire  blazing  under- 
neath. A  plank  for  a  table  comprised  the  furniture;  and 
here  sat  "  old  Gigger,"  surrounded  by  his  family,  making 
baskets  and  drinking.  There  lived  with  him  his  brother, 
Daniel,  his  sister,  Sallie, — who  escaped  killing  one  of  her 
white  neighbors,  only  because  the  gun  refused  to  go  off,  — 
and  Bets  Hendricks,  the  owner  of  the  famous  violin,  to 
whose  music  the  people  in  all  the  taverns,  and  the  children 
in  all  the  farm  kitchens,  danced  sixty  years  ago. 

An  old  Indian  woman  speaks  to-day  with  a  shudder  of 
the  quarrels  between  Gigger  and  Bets,  and  his  fearful  cruelty 
to  her.  One  time  she  got  more  than  even  with  him  by 
striking  him  with  a  scythe  and  cutting  his  thumb  so  that  it 
fell  over  into  his  hand.  But  this  quarrel,  like  all  the  others, 
was  readily  healed,  and  the  cut  thumb  was  cured  by  a  gener- 
ous application  of  balm  of  Gilead. 

The  remains  of  his  olp!  shanty  can  still  be  found  near  the 


1/4 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


arch  bridge  on  the  Boston  &  Albany  railroad.  It  is  on  the 
north  side  of  the  railroad,  about  twenty  roads  east  of  the 
western  intersection  of  the  old  and  new  road-beds,  a  half- 
dozen  rods  north  of  the  new  embankment.  There  is  now  left 
merely  a  collection  of  loosely  piled-up  stones,  half  hidden 
by  the  dense  brush,  but  indicated  as  once  having  been  a 
human  habitation  by  the  bright  little  faces  of  the  ladies' 
delights,  which,  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  have  outlasted 
the  Indian  family  which  planted  them  in  the  wilderness. 

Gigger  afterwards  lived  on  the  "  old  Mill  road,"  on  the 
right-hand  side  as  you  go  from  Main  street,  on  land  now 
owned  by  Mr.  Moses  Pollard.  For  many  years  the  hill  was 
called  for  him,  "  Gigger  hill."  Here  he  built  a  kind  of  wig- 
wam, and  lived  with  Bets  Hendricks  and  Deb  Brown.  Sarah 
Boston  often  visited  there.  When  not  in  his  house,  Gigger 
roamed  the  streets,  followed  by  Bets  Hendricks,  who  always 
walked  a  little  behind  him,  and  to  whom  he  often  called, 
"  Come  along,  Bets;  "  or  he  lay  drunk  under  a  tree,  or  in- 
dulged in  some  more  exciting  occupation,  like  rolling  down 
Jackstraw  hill  on  an  empty  barrel. 

He  and  Bets  used  to  wander  around  together,  she  carry- 
ing a  load  of  baskets,  which  they  sold  at  the  farm-houses, 
he,  the  violin.  They  often  found  work  in  rebottoming  the 
chairs,  and  when  the  work  was  done,  and  the  bread  and 
cider  disposed  of,  Gigger  or  Bets  would  delight  the  children 
by  getting  what  music  they  could  from  the  old  fiddle. 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   NIPMUCKS.  175 

The  last  years  of  their  lives  Gigger  and  Bets  spent  in 
Worcester,  building  a  hut  very  near  the  Boston  &  Albany 
railroad,  not  far  from  the  spot  where  Hon.  E.  L.  Davis 
has  lately  erected  a  stone  tower.  From  this  house  they 
took  their  last  spree, — going  into  the  city,  where  they  freely 
indulged  in  rum,  and  returning  late  at  night  in  a  driving 
snow-storm.  When  the  storm  was  over,  the  farmers  went 
out  with  their  ploughs  to  break  out  the  road.  A  bit  of 
calico  sticking  up  in  the  snow  proved  to  be  part  of  Bets' 
dress.  Farther  on  —  as  usual,  a  little  ahead  of  his  wife  — 
they  found  Gigger's  body,  —  both  frozen  to  death  within 
sight  of  their  home. 

There  was  a  family  of  Indians  living  on  John  Belknap's 
old  place  at  Rocklawn,  in  a  kind  of  dug-out  in  the  side  of 
the  hill.  It  was  enclosed  by  stone  walls,  covered  by  sods, 
with  grass  growing  on  the  roof.  The  door  was  about  four 
feet  square. 

There  was  also  an  Indian  and  his  wife,  who  lived  on  an 
island  in  "  the  swamp,"  named  Francis.  His  hut  was 
reached  by  a  rude  bridge  of  logs.  He  died  of  consump- 
tion, one  night,  and  in  the  morning  his  wife  found  her  way 
alone  to  Mr.  Pierpont  Brigham's,  told  how  he  died  with 
his  head  in  her  lap,  and  begged  that  he  might  have  a 
funeral  like  the  white  people.  The  neighbors  went  to  the 
island,  brought  away  the  body,  and  the  funeral  was  held  in 
front  of  Mr.  Brigham's  house. 


76 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


Lydia  Francis  belonged  to  this  same  family.  She  was  an 
especial  terror  to  the  children,  for  she  was  known  to  carry 
a  large  butcher's  knife  concealed  under  her  shawl,  and  she 
was  followed  by  a  big  brindle  dog,  as  ugly  as  his 
mistress. 

This  family  of  Francis  were  not  the  only  persons  choos- 
ing their  building  lots  in  Cedar  swamp.  There  is  an 
island  in  the  swamp,  known  for  many  years  as  Garfield's 
island.  It  is  a  tradition  that  a  man  named  Parmenter 
Garfield  used  to  live  alone  on  this  place,  and  a  cellar  still 
marks  the  site  of  his  house.  In  October,  1780,  Mr.  Park- 
man  writes:  "P.M.  Mr.  Ebr  Forbush  conducted  me  to  ye 
thick  swamp  where  is  y(>  hideous  dwelling  of  Jacob  Gar- 
field,  and  I  went  in,  tho  w41'  difficulty,  to  see  it.  Garfield 
himself  led  my  horse  out." 

One  of  the  most  interesting  Indian  relics  is  on  the  old 
Johnson  farm,  now  owned  by  Mr.  Daniel  Ruggles.  This 
is  a  large  cave,  made  by  its  aboriginal  owners  into  two 
rooms.  In  one  of  them  was  a  well-constructed  fireplace. 
Many  years  ago  it  was  struck  by  lightning.  It  is  still  occa- 
sionally frequented  by  strolling  Indians,  as  is  shown  by 
bows  and  arrows  and  other  material  left  by  them. 

Besides  the  Indians  already  mentioned,  who  made  their 
home  in  this  town  eighty  or  ninety  years  ago,  there  were 
many  from  neighboring  towns  who  spent  more  or  less  of 


THE   LAST   OF    THE   NIPMUCKS. 


177 


their  time  here.  The  most  celebrated  of  all  the  later 
IHfassanamiscoes  is  Sarah  Boston,  —  a  gigantic  Indian 
woman,  said  to  have  been  the  last  lineal  descendant  of 
King  Philip.  She  often  went  by  the  name  of  Sarah 
Phillips,  her  father's  name  having  been  Boston  Phillips. 
She  is  described  as  weighing  nearly  three  hundred,  and 
being  very  tall ;  indeed,  as  one  good  old  lady  said,  "  as  tall 
as  Dr.  Harvey."  Her  father  is  said  to  have  been  a  slave, 
who,  like  many  of  the  slave  men,  married  a  free  Indian 
woman  to  ensure  the  freedom  of  his  children.  Her  house 
was  in  Grafton,  on  Keith  hill,  where  her  cellar  and  door- 
stone  may  still  be  seen,  on  the  farm  of  Mr.  David  L.  Fiske. 
She  had  a  brother,  Ben  Boston,  as  large  as  herself,  who 
lived  with  her.  He  died  in  Worcester  years  after  her  death. 
She  wore,  usually,  short  skirts,  which  once  might  have 
been  a  bright  yellow,  red,  or  blue,  but  which  always  seemed 
to  have  grown  the  same  dingy  color  before  they  came  into 
her  possession ;  spencers,  the  latter  being  an  article  of 
clothing  worn  by  men  in  those  days ;  men's  boots  and  hats ; 
and  if  the  weather  was  very  severe,  a  homespun  bed-blanket 
over  all.  She  wandered  about  the  country,  in  one  place 
helping  the  farmer  with  his  work,  and  receiving  her  pay 
in  cider.  In  times  of  extra  work  she  was  considered  a 
very  desirable  "  hand,"  and  the  heaviest  work  was  left  for 
her  to  do.  In  another  place  she  sold  her  baskets ;  in 


178  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

another,  where  there  were  young  people,  she  told  their 
fortunes,  taking  each  one  alone  into  a  closed  room,  and 
peering  intently  into  a  cup  of  tea.  Like  all  the  Indians 
of  that  day,  she  drank  whenever  she  had  a  chance ;  and  it 
was  a  favorite  remark  of  hers,  "  The  more  I  drink,  the 
drier  I  am." 

It  was  not  only  the  young  children  who  stood  in  awe  of 
her.  Many  of  the  strongest  men,  who  had  incurred  her 
ill-will,  turned  aside  when  they  saw  her  coming.  She  was 
in  Worcester  one  day,  when  a  man  driving  along  com- 
manded her  roughly  and  insolently  to  get  out  of  his  way. 
She  sprang  upon  the  wheel  of  his  carriage,  jumped  into  the 
empty  seat  by  his  side,  and  would  not  get  down  until 
he  had  driven  her  as  long  as  she  pleased  through  the 
streets  of  the  town. 

A  lady  now  living  in  Grafton  was  an  eye-witness  of 
her  fury  one  time,  when  Capt.  Joshua  Harrington  and 
Capt.  Charles  Brigham  were  riding  together  on  South 
street  in  Grafton.  She  lay  in  the  road,  and  Captain  Har- 
rington suggested  driving  over  her.  Captain  Brigham  got 
out  of  the  wagon,  and  moved  her  to  one  side.  She  was 
not  too  drunk  to  resent  the  proposed  injury,  and  sprang 
towards  the  carriage,  and  would  have  pulled  out  Captain 
Harrington  —  a  man  who  weighed  two  hundred  —  had  not 
the  other  captain  held  him  in.  After  this  she  was  a  firm 
friend  of  Captain  Brigham  and  his  family. 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   NIPMUCKS. 


179 


The  children  in  every  town  were  afraid  of  her.  Once 
she  broke  up  a  party  of  young  people  at  Piccadilly.  The 
father  and  mother  were  away,  "and  the  children  were  in  the 
midst  of  their  festivities,  when  in  stalked  Sarah  Boston, 
attired  in  her  usual  boots,  skirts,  and  coat.  The  young 
guests  scattered  to  their  homes,  leaving  the  hostess  to 
entertain  her  latest  visitor  as  best  she  might. 

Of  Sarah  Boston's  rjome-life  we  know  but  little.  She  took 
pride  in  her  small  bit  of  garden  ;  and  among  the  things  she 
tended  was  a  fine  cherry-tree,  bearing  large,  handsome  heart- 
cherries,  while  most  of  her  neighbors  had  the  sour  red 
Morellos.  The  boys  of  the  town  considered  her  tree  com- 
mon property,  and  year  after  year  came,  just  as  the  fruit 
began  to  ripen,  and  stripped  the  tree.  One  year  it  bore  an 
especially  heavy  crop ;  but  when  the  boys  were  anxiously 
watching  for  the  first  suggestion  of  red,  the  sound  of  an  axe 
was  heard,  and  a  neighbor  passing  by  saw  Sarah  with  swing- 
ing blows  cutting  down  her  heavily  loaded  tree. 

"  Well,  Sallie,"  he  asked,  "  what  is  the  matter  with  that 
tree?" 

"  It  shades  the  house,"  she  answered  ;  "  I  can't  see  to  read 
my  Bible." 

One  night  a  party  of  young  men,  out  on  a  good  time, 
were  passing  the  old  cemetery  in  Grafton.  Their  ideas  of 
wit,  somewhat  confused  by  liquor,  suggested  their  knocking 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


loudly  on  the  wooden  gate,  and  calling  out:  "Arise,  ye 
dead,  and  come  to  judgment."  Slowly  from  one  of  the 
graves  the  immense  form  of  Sarah  Boston  stretched  itself  up. 
Saying,  ''Yes,  Lord  ;  I  am  coming,"  she  started  in  their  direc- 
tion. The  young  men,  well-nigh  paralyzed  with  fear,  stum- 
bled into  their  wagon,  and,  lashing  their  horse  into  a  furious 
run,  did  not  look  behind  them  until  safe  in  their  own  homes. 

Not  many  years  afterwards  she  was  laid  to  rest  in  this  old 
cemetery,  to  rise  no  more  at  the  idle  call  of  boys.  At  the 
dawning  of  the  judgment  day  she  may  be  among  the  first  to 
answer,  "  Yes,  Lord  ;  I  am  coming." 

Of  the  Hassanamiscoes  there  is  now  no  representative 
living  in  Westborough.  In  Grafton,  there  is  one  family.  All 
the  other  lands  reserved  for  the  Indians  have  passed  into  the 
hands  of  the  whites  ;  but  the  daughters  of  Harry  Arnold 
—  the  granddaughters  of  Lucy  Gimbee  —  still  own,  on  Brig- 
ham  hill,  two  and  a  half  acres  of  land  and  a  small  house, 
built  originally  for  their  grandmother,  and  since  enlarged. 
Here  one  of  them,  Sarah  Maria  Cisco,  lives,  and  receives  the 
two  hundred  dollars  a  year  granted  her  by  the  State.  Hers 
is  the  only  land  in  the  town,  if  not  in  the  State,  which 
has  never  passed  out  of  the  hands  of  the  Hassanamiscoes. 
She  is  now  seventy  years  old,  is  partially  of  colored  blood. 
Her  husband  is  partly  colored  and  partly  of  the  Narragansett 
tribe.  They  have  several  children. 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   NIPMUCKS. 


181 


There  is  probably  no  one  living  to-day  of  unmixed  Has- 
sanamisco  blood. 

The  Indian  burying-ground  in  Grafton  is  a  few  rods  from 
the  residence  of  Fred.  Jourdan,  on  the  Farnumville  road,  in 
a  field  belonging  to  the  old  Whipple  farm.  Many  of  the 


O  SCO  H 


graves,  marked  at  the  head  and  foot  with  a  rough  stone,  are 
plainly  visible.  Gorgeous  with  thistle  and  golden-rod,  bathed 
in  sunlight,  this  slope,  for  more  than  a  hundred  summers, 
has  realized  the  Nipmucks'  ideal  resting-place. 

Near  the  cemetery  there  is  still  pointed  out  the  site  of  the 
first  church  founded  by  Eliot  for  the  Indians  more  than  two 
hundred  years  ago. 

There  were   two  other  towns  of  praying   Indians   in   the 


1 82  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

immediate  vicinity  of  Westborough,  —  one  at  Hopkinton, 
formed  of  the  Magunkooks ;  the  other  at  Marlborough,  of 
a  branch  of  the  Wamesits.  Both  these  families  of  Indians, 
as  well  as  the  Hassanamiscoes,  belonged  to  the  Nipmuck 
tribe.  They  took  these  local  names  from  the  plantation 
with  which  they  were  connected,  and  it  was  very  common 
for  them  to  move  their  home  from  one  place  to  another, 
and  even  to  live  successively  in  each  of  the  three  towns. 
Netus  was  a  prominent  man  in  each  place.  His  first  home 
was  in  Grafton,  where  he  was  a  friend  to  the  whites ; 
afterwards  he  was  in  Sudbury.  In  1674  he  was  a  ruler 
at  Natick,  but  the  next  year  he  was  one  of  the  Indians 
who,  with  the  three  Jackstraws,  were  in  the  marauding 
party  that  attacked  Thomas  Eames'  house.  He  escaped 
the  fate  of  the  Jackstraws  by  being  killed  by  a  party  of 
English  soldiers,  in  Marlborough,  March  27,  1776.  His 
wife,  accused  of  complicity  in  the  assault,  was  sold  into 
slavery. 

The  plantations  at  Hopkinton  and  Marlborough,  like 
that  at  Hassanamisco,  were  completely  broken  up  by 
King  Philip's  war;  and  after  the  close  of  the  war  very 
few  of  the  Indians  returned.  In  1790  the  last  of  the 
Magunkooks  disappeared  from  Hopkinton.  Whitehall 
pond  had  been  one'  of  their  favorite  resorts,  and,  doubt- 
less, every  hiding-place  and  cave  in  the  ledges  on  Mr. 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   NIPMUCKS.  ^3 

Elbridge  G.  Rice's  farm  was  known  to  them.  On  the  way 
from  his  house  to  the  ledges,  on  the  left  of  the  path,  is 
a  stretch  of  light,  sandy  soil  now  covered  by  a  pine  growth, 
which  a  reliable  tradition  says  was  formerly  the  Indian 
cornfield.  In  front  of  the  house,  in  a  large  rock  is  a 
depression  probably  once  used  by  them  as  a  mortar,  and 
near  it  was  found  a  large  rounded  stone,  its  surface  worn 
smooth  by  grinding  corn. 

The  name  "Whitehall"  appeared  in  the  plan  of  the  land 
granted  to  Thomas  Mayhew  in  1647,  the  plan  itself  being 
dated  1714.  At  one  time  part  of  the  lowland  near  the 
pond  was  called  Black  hall. 

Some  of  the  Wamesits  came  back  to  Marlborough  and 
settled  near  the  borders  of  Williams'  pond.  The  old 
house  of  Peter  Bent  still  stands  ;  it  was  on  his  farm  that 
these  remnants  of  the  Indians  made  their  home.  His 
house  is  interesting  from  its  great  age,  being  about  two 
hundred  years  old,  and  from  being  built  by  this  first  settler, 
""one  of  the  stern,  staunch,  sturdy,  sensible  old  men  of 
his  time,  a  second  Massinissa,  as  his  neighbors  and  col- 
leagues used  to  call  him."  (Dr.  E.  F.  Barnes,  Marlborough.) 

These  Indians  built  their  wigwams  near  some  immense 
chestnut-trees,  one  of  which  with  its  hollow  trunk  alone 
remains.  The  field  near  by  still  goes  by  the  name  of 
Wigwam  yards.  Among .  those  returning  after  King 


1 84  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

Philip's  war  was  David  Munnanow,  who  took  an  active 
part  in  the  burning  of  Medfield.  He  lived  to  an  extreme 
old  age.  Mr.  Parkman,  March  22,  1736-7,  records  a 
visit  he  paid  the  old  Indian,  in  these  words:  "Visited 
old  David  Monanaow  Indian.  He  tells  me  he  was  104 
last  Indian  Harvest.  Says  the  name  of  Boston  was  not 
Shawmut  but  Shawwawmuth,  Chauncy  Pond  was  called 
Nawgawwoomcom." 

After  he  was  found  dead  beneath  his  favorite  apple- 
tree,  his  son,  Abimelech  David,  and  his  granddaughters, 
who,  in  the  not  unusual  Indian  fashion,  adopted  their 
father's  first  name  for  a  surname,  lived  in  the  same  location. 
Among  the  daughters  were  Sue,  Deborah,  Esther,  Patience, 
Nabby,  and  Betty.  Writing  after  the  great  snow-storm  of 
January,  1780,  Mr.  Parkman  says,  "Hear  yt  Sue  Bimelech 
was  lately  frozen  to  death." 

The  family  gradually  disappeared,  and  but  few  alive 
to-day  can  remember  the  time  when  there  were  Indians 
in  Marlborough. 

Not  far  from  here,  but  nearer  to  Westborough,  on  the  south 
road  from  Northborough  to  Marlborough,  is  the  burying- 
ground  of  these  Wamesits.  It  is  on  the  right-hand  side  of 
the  road,  nearly  opposite  a  house  and  small  shop  owned  by 
Mr.  Bispham.  Entering  a  pair  of  bars  just  beyond  his 
house,  a  short  lane  brings  us  to  a  large  field  with  an 


THE   LAST  OF   THE  NIPMUCKS. 


I85 


apple-tree  in  the  centre.  It  is  a  sunny  slope,  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  by  five  hundred  feet.  In  the  centre  is 
a  raised  mound  seventy-five  by  twenty-five  feet.  On  the 
lower  edge  and  one  end  of  the  field  is  still  very  plainly 
to  be  seen  a  raised  embankment,  which  probably  once 
extended  all  around  the  .lot.  But  there  is  now  no  trace  of 
graves,  and  no  one  who  has  dug  into  the  various  mounds 
has  been  so  fortunate  as  to  find  any  remains  of  these 
first  inhabitants. 


1 86  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


CHAPTER   X. 

SOCIAL    CUSTOMS. 

| HEN  there  was  no  longer  fear  of  hostile  Indians, 
and  the  old  ways  and  paths  gave  place  to  "  great 
roads,"  a  new  element  sprang  up  in  the  social  life 
of  New  England.  This  was  a  class  of  people  composed  partly 
of  the  last  degraded  specimens  of  the  Indians,  partly  of 
those  who  had  once  been  slaves,  and  were  suddenly  released 
from  their  bondage,  and  partly  of  persons  of  American  birth 
and  education,  whose  tastes  and  capabilities  fitted  them  for 
no  other  kind  of  life. 

They  travelled  from  house  to  house,  seeking  a  night's 
lodging  before  some  friendly  fire,  and  whatever  might  be 
offered  them  of  food,  cider,  or  rum.  Unlike  our  modern 
tramps,  there  was  nothing  transient  about  them.  They  came 
again  and  again  to  the  same  door.  Many,  like  "  Lady  Park- 
man,"  the  wife  of  Breck,  the  handsome  store-keeper, 
always  treated  them  with  dignity  and  respect,  ministered  to 
their  wants,  gave  them  sympathy  and  advice,  and  when  ill, 
mixed  up  for  them  a  beneficial  draught  of  molasses,  cider, 
and  red  pepper. 


SOCIAL    CUSTOMS. 


I87 


It  whs  the  custom  in  many  families  to  leave  the  doors 
unlocked  all  night,  so  that  these  wanderers  could  come  in 
at  any  time  and  enjoy  the  comfort  of  a  warm  kitchen.  Nor 
was  it  unusual,  when  the  housewife  came  down  in  the  morn- 
ing, for  her  to  find  half  a  dozen  Indians  stretched  out  on  the 
floor,  with  their  feet  pointing  to  the  fire. 

These  tramps,  or,  as  they  were  then  called,  "  old  shacks," 
became  town  characters,  carrying  the  news  from  one  house 
to  another,  welcomed  often  by  the  farmers'  wives  as  a  relief 
from  the  monotony  of  their  daily  work.  The  Indians  were 
mostly  Hassanamiscoes,  —  those  already  mentioned,  and 
many  others. 

Those  of  New  England  birth  were  either  shiftless  charac- 
ters, like  Ollan  Barrett,  the  grandson  of  the  Hopkinton  min- 
ister, or  still  oftener  the  insane,  to  whom  no  State  institution 
offered  care,  and,  when  possible,  cure.  The  crazy  women, 
especially,  added  to  the  picturesqueness  of  the  scene,  and 
scarcely  to  the  sadness,  for  most  of  them  were  full  of  happy 
dreams  of  pleasure  and  grandeur,  which  the  stern  reality  of 
the  early  New  England  life  made  impossible  to  their  more 
highly  favored  sisters.  Stories  of  these  insane  would  easily 
fill  a  volume :  of  Nabby  Fessenden,  a  monomaniac  on  the 
subject  of  bonnets ;  of  "  Molly  Green,"  who,  when  a  young 
girl,  had  lost  her  lover,  a  young  man  named  Green,  and  who, 
faithful  to  his  memory,  always  wore  something  the  color  of 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


his  name,  and  carried  a  sprig  of  green  in  her  hand  ;  of 
Nanny  Beeton,  whose  lover  was  drowned  at  sea  ;  and  of  many 
others. 

Among  the  slaves  there  is  no  family  more  universally 
remembered  than  old  Dinah's. 

She  was  captured  in  Africa,  branded  with  three  straight 
marks  on  her  cheek,  sold  on  the  pier  in  Boston  to  Sir  Harry 
Frankland,  who  brought  her  to  Hopkinton  to  work  on  his 
farm.  She  went  to  England  with  the  Franklands,  and 
returned  with  Lady  Agnes.  After  slavery  was  done  away 
with  in  Massachusetts,  she  came  to  Westborough,  and  lived 
in  a  small  house  nearly  opposite  Rev.  H.  W.  Fay's,  with  her 
family,  they  working  for  Mr.  Warren,  then  living  on  this 
place. 

She  is  remembered  as  short  and  stout,  with  snow-white 
hair  and  blue  eyes,  always  carrying  a  cane,  and,  in  the  season 
of  them,  a  bunch  of  wild-flowers.  In  the  later  years  of  her 
life  her  mind  was  gone,  and  she  talked  to  herself  as  she  wan- 
dered around,  oftenest  about  Lady  Jane  Grey.  She  was  free 
to  go  where  she  pleased,  receiving  a  welcome  even  in  the 
room  where  the  new  baby  lay  ;  and  being  allowed  to  take  it 
in  her  arms  and  clasp  it  to  her  bosom,  forgetting  she  was  not 
a  young  mother  herself,  and  the  wee  white  child  her  own 
little  one. 

O.  W.  Holmes,  in  "  Agnes,"  speaks  of  her  as  — 


SOCIAL    CUSTOMS.  ^9 

"Black  Dinah,  stolen  when  a  child, 
And  sold  on  Boston  pier, 
Grown  up  in  service,  petted,   spoiled." 

She  had  three  children,  born  in  slavery,  all  brought  up  on 
the  Frankland  place.  One  of  them  was  destined  to  achieve 
a  more  than  local  reputation.  This  was  Dick  Potter,  the 
ventriloquist.  J.  G.  Saxe  has  made  him  the  subject  of  a 
poem,  part  of  which  is  here  given :  — 

"THE    GREAT  MAGICIAN. 

"  Once,  when  a  lad,   it  was  mv  hap 

To  gain  my  mother's  kind  permission 
.  To  go  and  see  a  foreign  chap, 

Who  called  himself  the  great  magician. 

"  I  recollect  his  wondrous  skill 

In   divers  mystic  conjurations, 
And  how  the  fellow  wrought  at  will 
The  most  prodigious  transformations. 

"  I  recollect  the  nervous  man, 

Within  whose  hat  the   great  deceiver 
Broke  eggs,  as  in  a  frying-pan, 

And  took  them  smoking  from  the  beaver. 

"  I  recollect  the  lady's  shawl 

•  Which  the  magician  rent  asunder 
And  then  restored;  but,  best  of  all, 
I  recollect  the  ribbon  wonder. 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

"  I  ne'er  shall  see  another  show 

To  rank  with  the  immortal   Potter's; 
He's  dead  and  buried  long  ago, 

And  others  charm  our  sons  and  daughters." 

Potter's  trick  with  the  fried  eggs  was  one  he  often  per- 
formed in  town.  Asking  some  one  for  a  tall  hat,  he  broke 
into  it  half  a  dozen  eggs,  and  allowed  the  audience  to 
see  them  hissing  and  sputtering,  as  much  at  home  as  if  they 
were  in  the  usual  frying-pan.  He  then  passed  them  around, 
in  the  manner  of  a  modern  cooking-school,  for  each  person 
to  have  a  taste,  and  returned  the  hat  unspotted  to  the  owner. 

In  his  audience  one  day  was  Joel  Andrews,  one  of  the 
sturdy  old  farmers  of  Westborough.  He  had  but  little  faith 
in  Potter's  tricks,  and,  standing  up  in  the  tavern  hall,  he  com- 
menced to  criticise  the  great  conjurer.  Potter  turned  quickly 
to  him,  saying,  "  You  want  some  new  potatoes,  don't  you?  " 

"  Don't  know  as  I  do,"  answered  Andrews,  determined  not 
to  be  tricked. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  walking  up  to  him,  "  you've  got  some;  " 
and  he  commenced  revolving  his  hands  one  over  the  other 
in  front  of  Joel's  face,  and  apparently  extracting  from  some 
portion  of  the  farmer's  physiognomy  old-fashioned  potatoes, 
called  in  those  days  Long  Johns.  Joel  moved  away,  but 
Potter  followed,  still  producing  the  Long  Johns,  until  the 
farmer,  frightened,  but  believing,  left  the  hall. 


SOCIAL    CUSTOMS.  lgl 

Potter,  like  many  others,  took  the  stage  name  of  Signer 
Blitz,  and  gave  entertainments  all  over  the  country,  often 
returning  to  his  old  home,  where  the  large  dance-halls  in  the 
taverns  at  Piccadilly  and  Wessonville  were  crowded  by  eager 
audiences.  Handbills  announced  his  coming,  and  an  admis- 
sion of  twenty-five  cents  was  charged. 

Dinah's  daughter  "  Siddie,"  a  famous  maker  of  wedding- 
cake  in  her  day,  lived  in  Westborough  many  years, —  first  as 
Mrs.  Gibson,  in  the  house  where  E.  J.  Stone  now  lives  in 
Piccadilly ;  and  afterwards  as  the  wife  of  Jerry  Monday,  or,  as 
he  preferred  to  be  called,  Jerry  Norcross,  in  a  small  house  at 
Wessonville,  which  MY.  Wesson  built  for  them. 

Another  daughter  was  Julia,  a  mulatto,  who  married  John 
Pritlow,  of  Boston ;  but  in  1820,  when  she  was  past  forty,  she 
returned  to  Westborough,  and  lived  in  Mr.  Wesson's  family. 
She  had  one  daughter  who  stayed  in  Boston,  but  came  to  her 
mother's  home  to  die.  Julia  married  for  her  second  husband 
Jonas  Titus,  who  for  some  reason  was  not  invited  to  be 
among  the  chief  mourners  at  his  brother-in-law  Gibson's 
funeral,  and  made  the  one  remark  which  is  now  remem- 
bered of  him,  "  The  next  time  he  dies  he  may  go  without 
mourners." 

O.  W.  Holmes,  in  his  poem,  "  Agnes,"  thus  refers  to 
Julia :  — 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

"  Go  see  old  Julia,  born  a  slave 
Beneath  Sir  Harry's  roof. 

She  told  me  half  that  I  have  told; 
And  she  remembers  well 

The  mansion  as  it  looked  of  old 
Before  its  glories  fell." 


Jonas  Titus  had  a  brother,  Primus,  once  a  slave  in  Framing- 
ham,  —  perhaps  the  Primus  owned  by  Aaron  Pike,  and  bap- 
tized in  1744.  He  was  a  great  character  in  his  way,  "  a  clever 
old  fellow,"  bent  nearly  double.  He  was  the  one  who  rode 
over  to  a  muster  in  Framingham,  with  a  woman  on  a  pillion 
behind  him.  She  fell  off,  and  a  movement  of  Primus'  dis- 
closed the  fact  that  he  had  on  a  shirt-bosom,  but  no  shirt. 
The  bystanders  asked  him  why  he  didn't  wear  one. 

"  Why,"  he  answered,  "  I've  got  a  dozen  biled  shirts  at 
home,  but  I  hadn't  time  to  put  one  on." 

Of  the  slaves  owned  in  Westborough,  none,  if  living,  seem 
to  have  made  their  home  here,  after  the  beginning  of  the 
century.  There  were  two  Southern  slaves  who  for  a  num- 
ber of  years  lived  on  the  Blake  place,  now  in  the  possession 
of  Miss  Fanny  Smith.  They  had  been  owned  in  the  South 
by  a  brother  of  Eli  Whitney,  the  inventor.  When  he  sold 
his  plantation,  he  sent  them  to  his  sister,  Mrs.  Blake,  prob- 
ably first  giving  them  their  freedom.  They  were  called  "Old 
Nanny  "  and  "  Paton  Shipworth." 


SOCIAL    CUSTOMS. 


193 


Bathaba  was  owned  by  Mr.  John  Corbett,  of  Mendon ; 
but  in  times  of  extra  work  she  was  often  lent  to  his  brother, 
Mr.  Elijah  Corbett,  then  living  in  Westborough,  where  the 
J.  A.  Parker  cider-mill  now  is.  She  is  still  remembered  here 
as  "  Old  Bath." 

Mr.  Parkman's  boy  Maro,  we  have  already  seen,  died  soon 
after  coming  here 

Mr.  Parkman,  in  his  journal,  speaks,  in  1726,  of  "  Mr.  O. 
Ward's  Rocket  and  horse "  coming  over  to  help  his  hired 
man  Robert  weed  the  corn.  Mr.  Oliver  Ward  lived  on  West 
Main  street,  on  the  James  McTaggart  place. 

Mr.  James  Bowman,  who  lived  on  the  Upton  road,  beyond 
No.  5  school-house,  owned  a  slave,  Vilot.  She  was  a  favor- 
ite with  all,  being  a  privileged  person  in  the  house.  One 
night  a  young  man  who  was  visiting  there  had  a  severe 
toothache,  and  Vilot  was  called  up  to  take  care  of  him.  In 
the  morning  some  one  asked  her  if  she  felt  tired.  "  Ho,  hum," 
she  answered,  "  it's  a  long  time  since  I've  sat  up  with  a  young 
man." 

The  three  slaves  owned  by  Stephen  Maynard  were  sold  to 
go  South. 

The  style  of  dress  a  century  ago,  especially  for  men,  was 
very  different  from  that  of  to-day.  At  the  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century  the  men  still  wore  their  hair  long,  or  tied 
in  a  club-queue  ;  their  coats  were  broad-tailed,  their  hats  low- 


194 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


crowned  and  broad-brimmed ;  they  had  shoe-buckles,  knee- 
buckles,  and  long  stockings,  usually  home-made,  of  a  mixed 
blue  wool,  though  the  parson  often  had  them  of  linen  or  silk. 
Among  the  older  men,  cocked  hats  and  long  queues  were 
seen,  and  ruffles  at  the  wrist. 

In  1787,  after  the  death  of  Jacob  Broaders,  grandfather  of 
Hiram  Broaders,  Moses  Wheelock,  the  "  Vendeu  Mas- 
ter," rendered  the  following  account  of  the  disposal  of  his 
clothing,  probably  not  unlike  that  of  most  country  gentle- 
men of  his  day.  The  name  of  the  purchaser  is  first  given  :  — 

"  Edward  Cobb,  Great  Coat  for  twenty-five  shillings. 
Shadrach  Miller,  Velvet  Wastcoat  for  17  shillings. 
Stephen  Maynard  3d  Blue  coat  for  24  " 

Calvin  Rice  Red  coat  for  thirty-two  " 

Amasa  Maynard  Red  pr.  Breaches  for  14       " 
Timothy  Warren,  Blue    waistcoat  2/6. 
Hollan  Maynard,  White  waistcoat  for  3/2 
Calvin  Rice,  White  pr.  Woollin  Stockings  2/7. 
Simeon  Bellows  pr.  Woolling  Stockings.  2/8." 

Besides  these  things,  the  judge  allowed  the  widow  to  take — 

"  An  old  fine  shirt  3/6. 
i  pr.  Silver  Shoe  Buckles.  14/6 
One  pair  of  Silver  knee  buckles.  5/6 
One  pair  Silver  Sleeve  Buttons  is." 


SOCIAL    CUSTOMS.  IO/c; 

Mr.  Parkman  occasionally  makes  some  reference  to  his 
dress,  as  on  February  27,  1779:  "  Mrs.  P.  has  made  up  my 
Camlet  Gown,  lind  with  Green  Baize."  She  evidently 
bought  enough  green  baize  for  -two  garments,  for  he  writes 

a  few  days  after,  March  4:  "Mrs.  P disposes  of  ye 

Baize  Lining  (designd  lining  of  a  New  Red,  homespun, 
Camblit  gown  for  Elias)  to  Ebenezr  and  with  ye  Money  & 
some  addition  (yl  is  of  348)  purchases  yds.  of  Bear 
skin  to  make  him  (Elias)  a  Straight-bodyd  coat."  "  Cam- 
let "  was  a  thin  stuff,  made  of  silk  and  camel's-hair;  the 
homespun  camlet  was  probably  made  from  wool. 

On  Sundays,  attired  in  their  best,  the  men  walked,  some- 
times driving  in  their  farm-wagons,  a  very  few  in  their 
"  pleasure-carriages,"  to  the  church,  stopped  in  the  porch 
to  chat  with  each  other,  then  went  in,  seated  themselves  in 
the  roomy  square  pews,  whose  capacity  was  usually  in- 
creased by  the  addition  of  one  or  two  kitchen  chairs,  hung 
up  their  hats  on  the  pillars  supporting  the  galleries,  and 
gave  their  earnest  attention  to  a  sermon  an  hour  or  two  long. 

The  women  in  winter  wore  heavy  cloaks  of  homespun, 
sometimes  richer  ones,  interlined  with  wool  or  down.  They 
brought  their  tiny  yellow  foot-stoves,  and  at  noon  replen- 
ished them  at  Mr.  Parkman's  generous  fireplaces. 

But  summer  was  the  gala-time  in  the  "  old  Arcade,"  when 
the  women  came  in  their  freshly  laundried  calicoes  or 


i96 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


chintzes,  or  in  their  stiff,  rustling  silks.  Nearly  every  one 
carried  in  her  hand  a  bit  of  a  bouquet,  — a  white  rose,  or  a 
few  pinks  tied  up  with  a  sprig  of  caraway 
seed ;  the  latter  being  supposed  to  help  keep 
them  awake,  the  flowers  to  be  held  in  their 
hands,  and  passed  from  one  to  another.  Mrs. 
Barechias  Morse  carried  the  biggest  bouquet 
of  them  all,  of  lilacs  or  roses,  or  the  rarer 
sweet-william.  Her  dress-was  of  the  nicest  silk ; 
and  behind  her  came  her  son  Elisha,  with  the 
longest  queue  of  any  young  man  in  church. 

There  was  con- 
siderable sen- 
sation one  Sun- 
day as  Elisha 
Morse  walked 
dignified  and 
erect  down  the 
aisle,  when  one 
of  the  mis- 
chievous girls 

caught  his  queue  and  brought  him   to  an   abrupt  and   un- 
dignified standstill. 

The   women's    dresses  were    straight    and    scant,   with    no 
gathers    in    front,    until    about    the    second    decade    of    the 


SOCIAL    CUSTOMS. 


197 


present  century,  when  the  fashionable  dress-makers  com- 
menced to  put  in  a  very  few,  —  an  innovation  which  met 
with  small  favor  among  the  girls.  On  their  hands  they  wore 
home-made  knitted  mitts  reaching  to  the  elbows. 

Pins  were  a  luxury,  and  do  not  appear  in  the  store-bills.  In 
place  of  them,  each  family  had  a  thorn-bush,  planted  usually 
near  the  front-door,  —  a  convenient  pin-cushion.  When  the 
wealthiest  people  indulged  in  the  luxury  of  a  real  pin-cushion, 
they  made  it  a  work  of  art,  perhaps  a  bit  of  embroidered 
tapestry,  and  hung  it  up  on  the  wall,  like  a  picture.  It 
was  considered  none  too  good  for  the  few  hand-made  pins. 

We  get  a  little  idea  of  the  wardrobe  of  a  well-to-do 
middle-aged  lady  from  an  "  %  of  articales  appresed  as  the 
proppers  of  Persis  B.  Marble's  late  of  Northboro'."  This 
auction  took  place  January  2,  1826.  Her  wearing  apparel 
was  as  follows  :  — 


•"  I  bombazine  gound.  $5. 
I  silk  dito  ....  $3. 
I  old  Bombazine  dito  2. 
I  Bombazett  "  N.  2. 

I  Gingam  "         1.50 


i  Habbit 3. 

i  Remnant  of  washing 

cloth 3. 

i  Wooling  Shall      .     .  2.25 

1  Mantle 1.50 

2  prs.  Shoes  .     .     .      .  i. 


2  old  Ginghams  1.75 

i  Pelise 4.       j  3  scurts 3. 

i  Grate  Coat       .      .     .     6.50  |  3  crape  Handkerchiefs        .75 


198  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

I  silkapehorn&Ladis'  (2     pocket     Handker- 

Bag  ......        .70  chiefs 80 

4  caps I.  ;  2  silk  dito      ....      1.50 

3  prs.  gloves,  n.      .     .  1.25  12  prs.  silk  stockings   .     2. 

5  Knight  Gouns     .     .  2.  8  prs.  dito     ....     3. 

3  wasts  &  shirts     .     .  2  i  comb 30 


2  yds.  Bombazett  .     .        .50 
I  Scurt  &  2  apehorns        .75 


I  Bonnet,  Veil  &  Bow     i.io 


A  young  mother  preparing  her  baby's  layette  bought  dif- 
ferent materials,  and  made  them  differently  from  one  in  the 
same  station  of  life  now.  In  her  drawer  were  the  lone 

o 

flannel  bands,  to  be  fastened  as  tightly  as  possible  around  the 
delicate  little  body;  the  dainty  white  shirts,  low-necked 
and  short-sleeved,  with  a  bit  of  delicately  wrought  hand 
embroidery  on  the  piece  turned  down  in  front  and  back ;  a 
pile  of  small  white  muslin  caps,  —  for  the  baby's  head  must 
be  covered,  though  neck  and  arms  went  bare;  long  skirts 
of  bright,  yellow  flannel,  sometimes  finely  striped  with  black  ; 
foot-blankets,  of  the  same  color;  and  a  goodly  supply  of 
small-figured  calico  dresses.  In  a  drawer  by  itself  lay  the 
christening  robe,  the  one  white  dress,  as  rich  and  elaborate 
as  the  mother's  purse  could  afford,  or  her  skilful  fingers 
devise.  With  it  was  the  one  white  skirt  and  white  blanket. 
Sometimes,  prepared  for  this  same  occasion,  was  the  christen- 


SOCIAL    CUSTOMS. 


199 


ing  apron,  to  be  worn  by  the  mother,  of  heavy  white  silk, 
likewise  embroidered  by  her  own  hand.  This  apron  was 
used  only  when  her  babies  were  baptized,  but  even  then  it 
sometimes  chanced  that  it  was  worn  out  in  the  service. 

Among  the  more  important  social  events  were  the  funer- 
als. Nearly  every  one  in  town  went.  Prayers  were  held 
at  the  house,  toddy  was  passed,  each  one  drinking  from  the 
same  large  toddy-tumbler;  after  which  they  either  went  di- 
rectly to  the  grave  or  to  the  church,  —  the  old  Arcade,  where, 
if  in  summer,  the  closed  coffin  was  placed  under  the  elm-tree 
in  front,  which  was  planted  when  the  Arcade  was  built.  The 
friends  went  into  the  church  and  listened  to  the  readings  and 
prayers.  When  they  came  out,  the  coffin-lid  was  raised,  to 
give  them  a  last  look  at  their  friend. 

There  was  no  hearse  in  Westborough  until  1801.  Before 
that  time,  the  body  was  carried,  often  for  a  long  distance,  on 
a  bier,  —  a  long-handled  stretcher.  There  were  twelve  or 
more  bearers,  who  relieved  each  other  on  the  way. 
Over  the  coffin  was  thrown  the  burying-cloth,  —  the  one 
owned  by  /this  town  costing  two  pounds.  It  was  of  heavy 
black  material,  with  an  immense  tassel  at  each  corner.  The 
first  hearse  in  town  was  a  platform  of  slats  with  four  wheels, 
drawn  by  one  horse. 

The  coffin  was  made  by  the  village  carpenter,  costing  from 
two  dollars  and  a  half  to  three  dollars  and  a  half.  They 


200  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

were  usually  stained  red,  though  sometimes,  especially  in 
the  case  of  colored  persons,  a  black  one  was  seen.  There 
was  no  lining,  and  the  initials  and  date  were  either  written 
on  a  card,  fastened  on  to  the  coffin,  or  made  with  brass- 
headed  nails.  This  lettering  was  often  done  by  Dr.  Hawes' 
son,  James  Hawes,  Jr.  For  lettering  one,  "  P.  G.  &  76,"  he 
charged  thirty-three  cents. 

When  Ensign  Daniel  Bartlett  died,  in  the  old  Goodenow 
house  in  Northborough,  in  1764,  there  were  distributed  at  his 
funeral  nineteen  pairs  of  black  gloves,  eighteen  pairs  of  white 
gloves,  twelve  black  gauze  handkerchiefs,  and  other  articles, 
amounting  in  all  to  seventy-six  pounds  and  seven  shillings. 

It  was  customary  to  give  black  gloves  to  the  bearers. 

Rings  and  other  jewelry  were  left  on  the  body  until  after 
the  funeral,  then  removed  by  the  friends. 

In  January,  1780,  Mr.  Daniel  Forbes  was  very  ill.  This 
was  the  year  of  the  famous  snow-storm ;  for  several  days  it 
had  raged  with  violence ;  the  cold  was  intense.  The  few 
who  ventured  to  the  sanctuary  on  Sunday  came  on  rackets, 
and  gathered  at  noon  around  Mr.  Parkman's  kitchen  fire. 
The  snow  was  too  deep  for  Mr.  Parkman,  who  had  no  rack- 
ets, to  venture  as  far  as  Mr.  Forbes'  house,  which  was  on 
Jackstraw  hill.  The  cellar  in  the  pasture  owned  by  Mrs.  C. 
W.  Forbes  still  marks  the  site.  A  company  of  eight  young 
men  drew  his  two  daughters  on  a  hand-sled  to  see  him 


SOCIAL    CUSTOMS.  2OI 

before  he  died.  Mr.  Parkman  writes :  "  My  Heart  is  much 
with  him."  He  lived  only  two  days  after  this,  and  the  next 
day,  January  14,  Mr.  Parkman  writes  the  following  account 
of  his  funeral :  "  Squire  Baker  and  two  or  three  Hands  with 
him,  wc  soon  increased  to  half  a  doz.  drew  me  on  a  sled  to 
the  House  of  Mourning.  It  was  sharp  cold,  ye  Wind  Pierc- 
ing, ye  Sled  goes  over  ye  Tops  of  Walls  and  Fences.  Tho'  it 
was  very  difficult  to  get  there,  yet  yr  were  many  people  —  as 
it  is  said  he  died  happily,  so  he  was  buried  honourably  &  g11 
Respect  shown  to  his  Remains.  .  .  .  There  were  so 
many  persons  with  snow-shoes,  y1  yn'  was  a  good  Path  &  ye 
Corps  was  carried  on  a  Bier,  on  Men's  Shoulders.  I  was 
drawn  by  a  number  of  Rackett  men,  in  a  very  handsome 
Sleigh,  with  ye  Widow,  Mrs.  Abigail  Forbush  &  her  sister 
Mrs.  Dinah  Bond.  It  was  too  tedious  for  me  to  stay  at  the 
grave,  I  came  away  before  the  Coffin  was  let  down  —  by 
that  time  I  got  to  Breck's  stove  I  was  nigh  overcome,  by  one 
means  &  another.  The  Mourners,  Bearers  &c.  come  to  my 
House  to  hear  the  Will.  Dr.  Hawes  read  it." 

A  plain  slate  stone,  just  back  of  the  soldiers'  monument 
in  Memorial  cemetery,  still  marks  the  spot  where,  with  deep 
sorrow  and  great  respect,  this  strange  funeral  procession 
halted,  and  laid  the  honored  remains  in  their  last  resting- 
place. 

When    Peter   Whitney  was   pastor    of  the    Northborough 


202 


THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


church,  he  made,  without  due  consultation  with  its  members, 
some  changes  in  the  covenant.  This  displeased  some  of  the 
people,  among  them  John  Ball,  who  lived  near  the  top  of 
Ball  hill.  His  relations  with  Mr.  Whitney,  from  this  time, 
were  far  from  pleasant.  About  the  close  of  the  century,  Mr. 
Ball's  mother  died.  Determined  that  Parson  Whitney  should 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  funeral,  he  sent  to  Boylston  for 
Rev.  Mr.  Fairbanks. 

Mr.  Whitney  and  his  wife,  at  the  appointed  time,  started 
for  Mr.  Ball's  house ;  but  it  was  early  spring,  and  the  roads 
were  well-nigh  impassable.  His  chaise  stuck  fast  in  the 
mud,  and  the  most  strenuous  efforts  could  not  release  them 
in  time  for  the  funeral. 

He  finally  arrived ;  but  Mr.  Fairbanks  was  already  on  the 
field,  and  the  services  had  commenced.  Taking  him  one 
side,  Mr.  Whitney  positively  forbade  his  proceeding. 

"  You  forbid  him?  "  asked  Mr.  Ball. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  firmly  answered  Mr.  Whitney. 

"  Then  there  shall  be  no  services,"  he  replied. 

Mr.  Whitney  protested  that  he  would  himself  offer  prayer; 
but  Mr.  -Ball  said,  "  No  ;  not  in  this  house." 

Mr.  Whitney  then  proceeded  to  the  door-step ;  but  here 
Mr.  Ball  followed  him,  —  there  would  be  no  prayer  on  his 
door-step. 

"  Then  I  shall  pray  on  the  farm,"  declared  the  priest. 


SOCIAL    CUSTOMS. 


203 


"  Not  on  my  farm,"  answered  Mr.  Ball. 

And  so  the  funeral  procession  started,  and  the  old  lady 
was  laid  to  rest  with  no  prayer  or  word  of  comfort  for  her 
sorrowing  friends. 

As  they  turned  away  from  the  graveyard,  the  church  bell 
tolled  out  its  summons,  and  some  went  in  to  the  services 
conducted  by  Mr.  Whitney  in  his  own  church,  where  John 
Ball  had  no  right  to  forbid  them.  After  this  time,  he  had  no 
further  dealings  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Fairbanks. 

A  few  years  later,  in  1801,  John  Ball  himself  died,  his 
feud  with  Parson  Whitney  still  unsettled.  His  widow  in- 
vited Rev.  Mr.  Puffer,  of  Berlin,  to  attend  the  funeral ;  and 
after  consulting  Mr.  Whitney,  through  Deacon  Davis,  and 
supposing  it  would  not  be  objectionable  to  him,  Mr.  Puffer, 
partly  against  his  own  judgment,  yielded  to  the  widow's 
tears. 

A  few  days  after  the  funeral  he  received  a  brief  note  from 
Mr.  Whitney,  saying,  in  substance,  that  it  was  his  request 
that  Mr.  Puffer  should  never  presume  to  set  his  foot  in  North- 
borough  for  any  ministerial  service,  as  long  as  he  himself  was 
there,  and  able  to  perform  it. 

A  long  letter  from  Mr.  Puffer,  telling  of  his  extreme  care 
not  to  give  offence  to  Mr.  Whitney,  and  of  his  understanding 
from  Deacon  Davis  that  his  attending  Mr.  Ball's  funeral 
would  be  the  cause  of  no  hard  feeling,  concluded  this  contro- 


204 


THE    PIUNDREDTH    TOWN. 


versy.  Mr.  Whitney  wroje  that  his  explanation  was  so  far 
satisfactory  that  their  friendship  was  restored  to  its  old  foot- 
ing, and  invited  Parson  Puffer  to  dine  with  him  in  the  North- 
borough  parsonage. 

This  parsonage,  built  by  Mr.  Whitney,  in  1780,  still  stands, 
on  the  first  Berlin  road,  not  far  beyond  the  Unitarian  church. 
The  location  was  that  chosen  by  Nathaniel  Oakes  for  his 
farm.  At  his  house  were  the  first  religious  services  held  in 
Northborough,  before  the  separation  of  the  town.  The  first 
pastor,  Rev.  Mr.  Martyn,  occupied  the  place ;  Mr.  Whitney 
had  it  from  him,  and  while  he  was  living  there  the  old  house 
was  burned. 

Westborough  probably  had  its  share  of  social  entertain- 
ments,—  quiltings,  apple -bees,  barn-raisings,  etc.,  —  but  very 
few  accounts  of  them  have  been  preserved. 

We  have  had  glimpses,  in  the  journal  of  Anna  Sophia 
Parkman,  of  many  quiet  little  times,  —  of  coffee-drinkings, 
afternoon  teas,  and  singing-schools.  Her  father  used  to  go 
to  the  barn-raisings,  and  knew  how  to  lend  a  strong  hand  to 
the  work.  In  1724  he  writes:  "I  rode  as  far  as  Mr. 
Tainter's  to  raising  his  Barn.  It  was  a  pleasant  time,  but 
not  all  together  with  all  our  Trouble  and  Toil."  Mr.  Tainter 
lived  on  the  Cyrus  Wadsworth  homestead. 

Another  time  he  writes  :  — 

"June   3,    1779.     At    Eve,    but    before    sunsetting,    I    by 


SOCIAL    CUSTOMS.  2O$ 

request  of  Mr.  Sam1.  Forbush  went  to  his  House.  He  has 
been  raising  a  new  Barn  &  moving  part  of  an  old  One.  I 
was  at  their  supper;  after  wc  we  Sung  part  of  Ps.  1 12." 

The  singing  of  psalms  was  an  important  part  of  many 
social  gatherings.  When  Mr.  Whitney's  new  parsonage  was 
raised,  in  1780,  where  they  had  "ah  excellent  frame  and  a 
great  company,"  they  sang  the  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
seventh  psalm,  — 

"If  God  to  build  the  house  deny, 

The  builders  work  in  vain  ; 
And  towns,  without  his  wakeful  eye, 
A  useless  watch  maintain." 

Often  the  dinners  and  teas  were  concluded  in  this  way, 
and  even  the  huskings.  Mr.  Parkman  writes  of  the  gather- 
ing-in  of  his  harvest,  in  1779  :  — 

"  Oct.  ii.  This  day  we  cutt  up  carted  home  and  hulled 
out  ye  Indian  corn.  Ephrm.  Parker  went  with  my  team,  & 
Deacon  Wood  with  his,  about  nine  dined  here.  There  were 
forty  or  more  of  men  and  boys  at  Eve  and  Several  Neighbrs 
were  so  generous  as  to  contribute  to  the  entertainmt.  Squire 
Baker  about  50  Ibs.  of  meat.  Mr.  Ebr  Forbes  Beef,  Lt.  Bond 
Pork,  Mr.  Barn,  Newton,  a  Cheese,  Breck  sufficient  Rum. 
Thro'  the  gift  of  God  we  had  a  good  Crop,  Sound  Corn  &  ye 
Joy  of  Harvest.  To  Him  be  all  Honor  and  Glory !  Eve, 
sang  latter  part  of  Ps.  65." 


206  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

"The  softened  ridges  of  the  field 

Permit  the  corn  to  spring; 
The  valleys  rich  provision  yield, 
And  the  poor  lab'rers   sing." 

Good,  strong  West  India  rum  was  usually  served  at 
social  gatherings.  At  weddings,  there  was  wine  in  small 
glasses,  and  pound-cake.  In  the  early  part  of  this  century, 
ladies'  tea-parties  were  all  the  rage,  and  punch  was  the 
favorite  drink  in  summer;  in  winter,  "  flip."  Flip  was 
made  of  beer,  a  beaten  egg  added,  the  two  stirred  together 
with  a  red-hot  "  loggerhead,"  and  last  of  all,  just  before 
serving,  a  little  rum  or  whiskey  was  poured  in. 

A  very  fashionable  beverage  was  "  mulled  wine."  It 
was  made  very  acceptably  for  many  years  at  the  famous 
Brigham  tavern,  then  standing  where  the  Westborough 
hotel  does  now.  Since  then  the  oldest  part,  formerly  the 
Gregory  house,  has  been  moved  a  little  farther  down 
South  street,  and  is  now  known  as  Union  building. 

It  was  made  at  the  tavern  from  this  recipe,  furnished 
by  the  landlord's  wife,  Mrs.  Dexter  Brigham :  — 

MULLED    WINE. 

One  quart  Madeira,  boiling  hot ;  one-half  pint  hot  water ; 
six  eggs,  beaten  light ;  sugar  to  taste. 

The  children  of  the  town   met   at  stated  intervals   in  the 


SOCIAL    CUSTOMS. 


2C>7 


church,  and  recited  their  catechism,  studied  diligently 
every  Sunday  from  the  old  New  England  primer.  Mr. 
Parkman  notes  in  his  journal,  "  Catechised  at  ye  •Meeting- 
House  A.M.  32  Boys,  p.m.  23  Girls.  May  a  blessing 
accompy  my  instruction  and  Warngs  to  them  of  each 
Sex!" 

The  meeting-house  in  those  days,  as  well  as  the  cemetery, 
was  surrounded  by  an  old-fashioned  country  fence,  which 
kept  out  more  or  less  effectually  the  swine, — which  the 
town  year  after  year  voted  to  let  "goo  at  large,"  —  the  cattle, 
and  sheep.  It  seems  to  have  been  Mr.  Parkman's  work  to 
see  that  these  fences  were  kept  repaired,  and  his  privilege 
to  make  such  use  of  the  land  as  he  could.  Recording  the 
arrival  of  some  guests,  May  11,  1779,  he  says:  "Their 
Horses  are  put  into  the  Burying  Place ;  our  Hay  being 
gone." 

Most  of  the  houses  in  town  were  unpainted.  Mr.  Park- 
man's was  probably  red,  as  that  was  the  color  of  the 
front  fence. 

Sometimes  the  people  of  the  town  gave  the  minister  a 
donation  party.  An  account  of  such  a  one  at  Rev.  Peter 
Whitney's,  in  Northborough,  was  printed  in  the  "  Massachu- 
setts Gazette,"  Oct.  5,  1 769.  It  is  in  these  words  :  "  The  good 
women  of  Northborough,  zealous  of  emulation,  yea,  ambi- 
tious of  excelling  their  sisters  in  other  towns,  agreed  to  spin 


208  THE    HUNDREDTH    TOWN. 

what  each  should  please,  and  appointed  a  day  at  which  to  meet 
at  the  house  of  Rev.  Mr.  Whitney,  to  present  him  and  his 
consort  with  what  each  had  spun  for  that  end.  Accordingly, 
on  the  day  appointed,  they  assembled  at  the  house  of  their 
minister,  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  bringing  with 
them  the  fruit  of  their  Labours  and  Industry.  Upon  com- 
puting the  linen,  tow  and  cotton,  there  were  2223  knots, 
besides  a  linen  sheet  and  two  towels,  all  of  which  they  gen- 
erously gave  to  their  reverend  pastor.  The  number  of  the 
women  was  Forty-four.  It  is  presumed  that  this  act  of  gen- 
erosity much  exceeds  what  any  other  people  have  done  for 
their  minister  in  this  way,  that  we  have  heard  of;  especially 
will  it  be  thought  so  when  the  smallness  of  the  place,  the 
fewness  of  its  members,  that  this  was  spun  at  their  own 
houses,  and  out  of  their  own  materials,  are  all  considered." 

In  the  early  days  of  the  settlement  of  the  town,  most  of 
the  marriages,  if  not  all,  were  solemnized  by  Mr.  Parkman. 
Afterwards  it  became  a  common  custom  for  the  bridal  couple 
to  walk  arm-in-arm  from  the  bride's  home  to  the  dwelling- 
house  of  James  Hawes,  Justice  of  the  Peace,  where,  in  the 
parlor,  with  few  witnesses,  the  ceremony  was  performed  by 
him. 

In  1778,  when  currency  was  very  much  depreciated,  Mr. 
Parkman  received  from  three  to  eight  dollars  for  a  marriage. 

In   1779,  soon  after  Mr.  Daniel  Forbes'  funeral,  and  while 


SOCIAL    CUSTOMS. 


209 


the  snow  still  rendered  the  roads  nearly  impassable,  he 
received  an  "  urgent  message"  to  go  to  Capt.  Edmund  Brig- 
ham's,  who  lived  on  the  Southborough  road  near  the  bound- 
ary line,  to  marry  Mr.  Antipas  Brigham.  In  his  journal, 
January  24,  he  writes :  "  I  went,  but  with  great  difficulty 
by  reason  of  ye  deep  snow.  My  sons  Breck  and  Elias  drew 
me  on  a  light  sled  as  far  as  Mr.  Haskill's "  —  this  house 
having  ever  since  been  owned  by  his  descendants,  the  present 
owner  being  Mr.  Asa  Haskell  —  "Nigh  wc.  a  number  of 
young  men,  Brighams,  accompanied  me  on  foot  to  the  house 
wre  I  performed  ye  Solemnity.  After  supper,  they  bro't  me  to 
Mr.  Gale's,  who  kindly  obliged  me  to  lodge  there."  This  was 
the  old  Gale  tavern,  recently  owned  by  Dennis  Fitzpatrick. 
The  tradition  of  Mr.  Parkman's  ride  to  the  wedding  is  still 
preserved  in  the  Brigham  family,  with  some  of  the  incidents 
of  the  trip,  —  that  the  old  minister  lost  his  wig,  and  the 
"  racketmen  "  were  at  no  small  trouble  to  recover  it;  but  all 
finally  ended  well. 

Singing  a  psalm  was  usually  part  of  the  marriage  ser- 
vices. November  10,  1778,  Mr.  Parkman  writes  of  an  after- 
noon wedding,  "  went  to  Widow  Bakers,  ace.  to  Mr.  An- 
drew's request.  I  marry'd  ym.  Supped  &  we  sing  Watts' 
Ps.  128.  6  Doll." 


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